


ABC, Emotions Of Shane Madej

by IwriteDreams



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Depression, Diary/Journal, M/M, Pining, Protective Shane, Shane Being an Asshole, over intulectullizing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-02-12 20:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 39,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12968256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IwriteDreams/pseuds/IwriteDreams
Summary: One monthShane Madej, day by day.poems and ghosts and dreams and Ryan.





	1. A is for Aboriginal

December 9th, 2017

It’s been a few days and I just got a new notebook for all of this. Which is good, because I’ll implode if I can’t get some of this shit out of my head. 

Seriously, with all the things happening inside my head it’s a wonder that I really haven't imploded by now. I was worried that Ryan or somebody might notice how irritable I was getting. It’s been all work and no play for the past few days, and the house being empty is still weird after four months. I know that Ryan isn’t doing much better, but even he’s seemingly started getting over it. 

And I just sit here, writing in a shitty little book because I don’t know how to communicate with people.

I actually am thinking about picking up talk therapy again, because my own behavior has really started to bother me. I haven't had a therapist in a long time, I was fourteen maybe? But I’m starting to think that I might need one, and that treatment might be more effective now then it was, knowing my brains all developed and shit. Because that’s what the counselors always told me. “It’s not that you CANT talk to people, it’s just that you're a teenager-” and I stopped listening there. 

Still, for a few months, every time I set foot in a shitty building with Ryan I just hate myself. 

All I can do for the cameras is rag on him, beat him up ver stupid things. Off camera, and daily I'm so much nicer to him… I think it’s started to have bad effects on him. And not just the fact that he didn’t tell me about him breaking up with Helen until two weeks later. That I can kind of understand. He just hasn't been talking to me as much.

I feel like an asshole, and I’ve been aware of it too- and that’s the worst thing! I’m just not in control of myself, and I sure as hell should be. I always go in, telling myself to not be an asshole, but that’s all that will ever come out. I think there are moments when I fight it, but those are exceptions. EXCEPTIONS. And they shouldn’t be. 

It really came back and slapped me last night, and knowing that I wasn’t going to go another functional day without jotting all of this brain shit out somewhere, I went to Target at for in the morning (no girlfriend to tell me not to anymore, right?) and grabbed a new journal. 

Last night I had the weirdest fucking dream. Like, it solidified to me that I need to get my shit together. Change something about what I’m doing. 

I was screaming back to the Sally house, our first ever haunted house with a demon, and the off-camera pep talk I gave Ryan. 

It as one of the few times that I was proactive in not being an asshole- even if I went right back to being a huge dick the moment we got back inside. 

I have to be honest. It was probably one of the best moments of my life. 

I’ve just thought about it so much… it’s probably more real in my head then it was in real life, it feels like I made it up. I might have, actually. 

I just know that was the day that something was special about Ryan. His crying, swiping away tears and trying not to be afraid, so determined to press thought and not look weak. It was the day I learned that he truly needed somebody like me to keep him in check. Somebody to remind him that he pushes too hard. On himself, on others, and that it’s okay to relax. 

It was the first time I got to hug Ryan too, so of course, I’ll remember it. 

I thought I was just feeling good for helping out a friend, and I gotta say, maybe those high school acting classes helped me lie to myself for a long few months there. THat’s why I burn all of my notebooks once I fill them out. I don’t want to go back and read all about how seven months ago I was having crisis after crisis about loving somebody other than my girlfriend. But I digress. 

Either way, the dream was the same as what had really happened. I was trying my best to communicate my faith in him, and positivity, without looking like the huge fool who can’t talk to people that I am, and will always be, no matter what Ryan think of me, until a certain point. 

It was just after I had reminded him of how much I trust him, and how dependable he is, and how I’d fight off a demon for him, and all that jazz that was way too prevalent of my real feelings- but not quite because whenever I try to vocalize my emotion it always comes out slightly different then what I actually mean- to risk putting onto Youtube and fueling the internet’s shipping and fangirls spamming Ryan to make out with me. Not that I would mind, but There’s no way in hell Ryan would have the same attitude towards it as me. 

Either way, it was at that point, him still shaking in my arm, verbatim of what had happened in real life, when he backed away. 

He just. Moved back?

And something stuck dream me like everything was wrong and shitty and not right. 

And dream Ryan looks me dead in the eye and tells me that he doesn’t believe me. 

He goes on and on and on about how I betrayed him before and how I’m the shittest human alive. How I’m such an asshole about all the things he’s sensitive or afraid about, how I can’t be around people without disappointing them. He told me that there was a reason he’s been quiet because I’m untrustworthy and pathetic. 

He went to the car, and I was stuck in place, and I watched him drive away, as I was still stuck on the porch. 

I was so sad watching Ryan go, and in this version of the scenario, the realization hit me. No denial. 

And then I woke up. 

I looked back behind me to see that the demons were after me. Not only demons, but my own demons.

And THEN I woke up. 

 

SPOTD:

Would you blame me  
Would you hate me  
If i tore it all away

Would you despise me  
Would you leave me  
If i had deceived you

Would you run  
Would you hide  
Or would you look into my eyes  
As your dream me fell apart  
As I watched you go by that night

Would you stumble or fall  
Would you sink or swim  
If i opened up  
And it was ugly within

I might cry  
I might die  
If you left  
I tried my best  
I can’t fly  
“To and from, by:”  
Shane Madej.

Shane Madej  
  
---


	2. B is for Boorish

December 10th,

It was a sting, for sure. I’ll tell you that first hand with certainty. 

All night I didn’t sleep well. Getting it all down on paper was nice, but it didn’t stop it all from being shitty. 

I felt really bad about everything that’s been happening with Ryan, and I know i'm overthinking every little thing he does now, and that’s frustrating, I get it. I know.

But he just seems cold. And quiet around me, and that isn’t settling well. 

So of course, I went to work this morning and tried to rationalize with him. 

He was wearing his stupid lakers hat, and his hair was a mess underneath. He’s been looking substantially more and more ruffled up in the morning's scene Helen moved out. 

I knew I was biting my lip at that point. Out of nervousness of the apology, or out of nervousness of talking to Ryan when he looked like that? Will remain unsolved. 

Either way, I saddled up, and sat down, tucking in close to him, and waited for him to tell me “good morning.” Only… It never came. He never even acknowledges me. 

“Good morning.” I’d said, trying to start it for him, and only then did he look up. 

“Oh- hey.”

And that’s where it died. Again. 

I was off put, and now, more nervous than ever, so I didn't end up apologizing until a few hours later. 

He went to go have lunch with Eugene and the Try guys, and I didn’t mind. It was less awkward with him gone, and I got more work done with a clear conscious anyways. 

But still, it had been weeks since Ryan had gone to eat lunch without me. So that hurt. 

Still, I tried my best not to let it get to me. It wasn’t easy but I the long haul, it’s what was best. 

I was trying to scramble together a Ruining history, editing and editing and editing. Until it was time to leave. 

I knew what I had to do then, so I stopped Ryan just before he’d left. 

“Ryan- wait up.”

He had turned back to me and asked. “Yeah?”

 

“There’s… something I need to say.” And good god, I’ll promise I haven't felt as stupid as that in a long time. 

“What’s up?” And his eyes were just about all I could see. He looked straight through me. Maybe ghosts WERE real, and I was one. 

“I just… Ryan, I wanted to apologize to you.” And it was hard to force out. 

“What? For what?” And I could tell that he had a very specific answer in mind for that question. 

“I wanted to apologize for how I’ve been acting… I’ve been a huge dick. I know… and I’m so sorry.”

 

But instead of a smile, and an “I forgive you” or even an “I understand” Ryan dictated that I wasn’t deserving of that kind of acceptance. 

Maybe I wasn’t. I had been arrogant to think I did deserve it. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He’d said. “I mean… It’s not any different from how you normally act.”

SPOTD:

I know that I’m sour  
Bitter and lost  
But I need you  
But what does that make me  
If I don’t deserve you when I need you  
What’s larger than infinity  
What breaks the paradox

 

You are my unmovable object  
And I am the unstoppable force. 

When you say hello to me  
I’m not even sure I knew you

Maybe It’s all just a dream  
And I’m a few sticks insane

\- Shane Madej


	3. C is for Consternation

December 11th,

I feel like my car this morning. Busted up. Not starting. In the shop for repairs that take way too long, and cost far too much. Is it worth it? Or should it be thrown aside for something that's not broken?

It was a majorly shitty day, and I didn't know how to make it better. Like I'm too dysfunctional and too helpless to even try to make it better. It was a trap this whole time.

I sprinted out the door to catch my bus, for the record, fuck public transportation. Only to find that it was late, sagging behind on the freezing windy day. I stood at the highway, wind cutting my face, layering four coats, looking like such an idiot. The bus was so slow, dragging its feet and disappointing people with whatever it did.

Once I’d found my way to a seat that didn’t have anybody sitting in the two seats beside it, because other people might’ve been the worst thing for me to have interaction with at that moment in time, is slipped in earbuds, and let Spotify play and play and play. 

And play.

And play.

And play until I could no longer hear it.

It wasn’t until my phone vibrated violently is my hands with a text from Eugene that I snapped to attention, only to realize I’d fallen asleep and had missed my stop. 

“Shit!” I’d swore aloud. Thankfully, there were no small children on public transportation this early in the morning. Before standing and asking the driver if I could get off there. 

He’d turned me down, and told me to wait for the next stop. 

Shit, right?

I got off at the next stop, seven blocks away from headquarters. 

I pass all the shops, decorated for the holiday season. All the streetlights spiraling over and over again up the poles. 

I see windows decorated with Superheros, and for once, Batman isn’t the first one that catches my eyes. 

What I notice is a poster of the most famous superhero kiss ever. Spider-Man suspended upside down, kissing the girl of his dreams. And for a moment, I stop and wonder, Why couldn’t that be me?

Where’s my Spiderman when I need one? And I move on by. 

I walk three more blocks and cross paths with A McDonalds on the way. I stop and I order an iced tea, something to hopefully wake me up more- but the employees put the wrong tea in the wrong containers, so when I leave and Finally take a sip, I gag on the high tasting sugary water that doesn't contain any of the bitterness I was hoping for. 

I expected hurt, but I couldn’t choke down the sweetness. It wasn't for me. 

I cast it aside in a trash can on a street corner that I had never seen before, But pushing it away didn’t remove the sugar from my tongue. 

By the time I settle into work, nothing's going right. 

Ryan still sits next to me, and even as I glance over at him, minute after minute, not once does he glance back at me. Not once does he look up from editing the one thing he was complaining about a few days ago. 

When he leaves to go somewhere else for lunch… I don’t know what to do. And he doesn’t give me an answer. 

The only person whose eyes seem to catch mine, are Sarah's. From across the room. But hers are cold and empty when they stare at me. ANd I feel hollow as I look back at her. 

Time passes. And Ryan still hasn’t come back.

It’s an hour after his lunch break, and I’m just sitting there, alone. 

Two hours in, and I’ve done nothing. And nothing has moved to fill in Ryan’s seat. Sarah still glares at me, and she trades whispers with Jen, who only looks to be half listening to her. 

I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, and I’m sure Ryan wouldn’t tell me. So by the time I turn off my computer, I’m debating how much mental and physical strength and fortitude it would take to literally dig yourself a hole to curl up and die in. 

It’s raining when I go outside. And the wind is clawing through the streets. 

In California, Rain is a great thing, But it’s cold and wet and miserable, as the wind blows the rain under all the awnings, and you get soaked and shiver no matter where you are. 

My bus, when it came, already five minutes late, was too full to take me, so I waited another half hour for the next one. But I’ll be honest. 

I was already cold. Before I even stepped out in the storms. 

And once I got home, I hated how hot it was. I wanted to remain cold, it felt like a punishment. It make me feel like I was giving the universe some sort of atonement for what I’d done. But who knows. 

I didn’t remove my cold, wet shirt, that was sopping wet, frosty tips thawing out in my apartment. I didn’t do anything. I just walked over to my bed, and collided with the surface. 

The worst part about being a skeptic. The worst part about being a man who rules with head over heart, was that when your heart catches up to you, you don’t know what to do with it. 

You’ll never know what to do with it. 

It had been a long time since I cried like that. I’m Shane Madej. I don’t cry often. I internalize my pain, and my struggles, and I try to let it go as best I can. But it didn’t work. 

It was a flash flood that gripped me, water pouring out of my eyes like waterfalls. 

I knew then that I needed help, Help that I wasn’t getting. 

Only, I didn’t really want that help. I didn’t deserve that help at all, now did I?

But I cried and cried and cried. And Decided that nothing was worth fighting for anymore.

I may as well make somebody fight for me. 

SPOTD:

A man who cries is a gift  
And a man who doesn't is dead

What happens to me, toeing the middle line?  
I’m a zombie  
And a gift nobody wants

I am alone, and I am broken  
I am missing half the pieces  
And while medications can organize the outside edges  
And a therapist can piece me together  
There is nobody but you  
Who can find the missing pieces of my jigsaw puzzle

One was in my dying car  
One was in the trash.  
One was in the bed, crying his life away. 

\- Shane Madej.


	4. D is for Depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fast little trigger warning for depression? It's way less than the last chapter though, very minor. I promise Shane will get hugs later! Stay tuned for tomorrow!

December 12th,

It was another long ass day. 

It’s always a long day without Ryan, which meant it was probably going to be a long week. 

And a long month. 

And a long, overdrawn lifetime. 

But at least I was trying to do something about it, rather than just lay in bed for an extra three hours, because when I woke up early, let me tell you, that was a tempting option. It really was. 

But now I sit, half awake in the waiting room of his doctor's office, trying to choke down bitter coffee. There’s a reason I prefer tea, too bitter, too sweet, it’s all the same. 

Waiting and waiting and waiting. 

I just doze off, fingers scrolling through my phone. I don’t know what app, and I don’t care either way. I don’t care. I swear.

I don’t care. 

I swear. 

_______

It’s thirteen minutes until I get called back into a room that’s too small for any flexibility. Crammed into a corner, and seemingly forgotten about. I would know because I counted every second. 

The man helping me is small, even smaller than Ryan. It’s comical, actually. He has sandy swept hair and grey eyes that seem to stare at me like I’m a transparent, open basin. 

He tries to smile at me, but I’ve had a talk counselor long enough to know that it’s all for me. 

“Shane, would you mind taking a seat?”

 

He says like it’s a choice. Which is oddly humorous to me. What in this lifetime was really my choice, I wonder?

It doesn’t matter, because I sit on the way too small, shit, multicolor chair across from him, with nothing in between us. Just… chairs and an office around us. 

“So…” He says. “Shane…. It appears that, looking into your medical background, and into your medical use and the like… we have re-diagnosed you.”

‘Re-diagnosed’ is a terrible word. I make a mental note to loathe it for the rest of my life. 

“There isn’t an easy way around this Shane, So I’m just going to come clean.” He frowned, and I hardly braced myself at all. I didn’t care.

Though, I truly wished he did. 

The guy's name was Blake, I finally noticed. He had a nametag dangling crookedly off of his shirt. 

“Shane, you appear to be displaying symptoms of chronic depression, and irregular sleep-wake rhythm depressive cycles.”

I leaned back. I've always felt shitty and knew I probably should get it checked out but... this whole time?

No wonder I had to overdose on meletonin everyday. 

“Well. Shit.” I shrugged. “Sounds about right.”

________

I was numb to just about everything by the time my Uber drops me off at work late. But I have a slip from the hospital, so it should be fine. Then again, what is really ‘fine’ these days?

 

I gave the driver a five-star rating because he’d been silent the whole ride, which in my eyes was a blessing like no other, before I turned and faced the entrance to headquarters. 

I climbed the stairs one at a time, slowly, feeling anchors pulling his farther into the earth with every single step. 

I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound as appealing as it should.

I felt dead as I finally opened the door with slight care and attention. Ready for the pavement under me to swallow me whole. 

I got in, handed over my slip, got my house and headed to my station. I didn’t even remember what project I was working on- but there I was, and unfortunately, greeted face to face with Ryan.

It would be a good thing, had Ryan not been so tricky with him.

“Well look who decided to show the hell up?” Ryan frowned. But there was no comedy in his voice. No point outside being an asshole, which was uncharacteristically cold for him. Were was my Ryan? What had I done?

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I confessed. 

“You better be- thanks to you we’re two hours behind in the next Unsolved filming. Where the hell were you?”

“Shit, that was today?” I asked, but there wasn’t anything in my voice. 

“Yes- that was today!” 

And now I understood why Rayn was so upset with me. At least, in this moment. I’d dicked over his favorite thing to do on the face of this earth, that and I’d somehow already pissed him off.

To make matters worse, Ryan always made me think of a dog person. Not that he liked dogs, well, he did, but that he acted like one. When you upset him it was all teeth and nails and growling. Yet you could only get that if you were on good terms with him first. If not he just whimpered in fear. 

I was greeted with the teeth and the barks, and the growls and the claws. 

“Jesus Shane, what the fuck?! What could be so important as to fucking miss this- what’s wrong with you? You’ve been a huge toolbag recently.”

Ryan paused, but he’d already said it, and my suspicions were already confirmed, so he rolled on past it. It didn’t matter what he said now. Not really. 

“Let’s just… where the fuck were you?”

And that time he sounded more hollow. More empty. 

I bit my lip. He trusted Ryan. I loved Ryan. I could do this. 

“I overslept… and then my car wouldn’t start. Took it to the shop, Uber-ed here.”  
Of course, I couldn’t.

No need to make this even worse for a guy like Ryan. Not that Ryan would really even care if I came clean about my new diagnosis now. 

Ryan just sighed. He expected better of me. I know he did. “Whatever. It’s fine.”

But I could taste the lie on his tongue. And it was bitter.

SPOTD:

With every raincloud above my head  
You have it’s own universe revolving about you  
With every icy drop that strikes me  
You have a million suns to light your way

We work perfectly together.  
You and me.  
Black and white.  
Sky and earth.  
Hot and Cold.  
Salt and Sugar.  
Bitter and sweet. 

Only, is it even right to entertain  
The idea of bringing you down  
To meet me in the middle  
If all that it would do  
Is trouble you

If I want you more than a Five-year-old craves a new toy  
If I need you more than the air I breathe  
If I’m so selfish as to try anyways  
Reach out to you in longing  
Regardless of consequence  
How selfish does that make me?

Never mind. 

Because trust me.

I don’t care.

I swear.


	5. E is for Exuses

December 13th,

 

It’s another day of not knowing what I was doing wrong. 

 

I swear, I feel like I’ve tried everything at this point, but nothing, nothing at all is working. 

 

I started taking my meds last night, and I’m waiting for them to fuck up. It’s not the medication, Or Blake, It’s me. I expect everything to go wrong, especially these past few weeks, when they have. 

 

I feel a little strange. I wonder if it’s because of the medications working, or them being blood thinners. Probably the ladder, but I’ll try not to focus on it. 

 

I took an Uber straight to work. I was about done with Public Transportation for a while. 

 

My Uber driver was nice enough. A woman who had soft jazz rolling. She asked me a few questions. Where I was going, how were things, how nice the weather is. 

 

I tried to not sound like a huge toolbag and gave her a few answers, but she must’ve figured out that I was not in the mood for conversation. Because after a while she stopped bugging me about things. Anything. SHe just shut up. And I greatly appreciated it.

 

THere were huge downtown buildings that cast giant shadows on the car as we moved by, though the traffic of the morning. I wonder if that’s how Ryan feels sometimes, shorter than me. Or if maybe that how he makes me feel, when people clamor over one another to get to him, and like me to only be his sidekick.

 

Some old probably white and straight guy once said: we all want to be the hero in our own stories. Nobody wants to be the comic relief.

 

Anyways, I skipped up the steps this time around. Wondering why it feels so easy. Maybe the drugs were already kicking in?

 

Or maybe I was scared of myself, and what might happen if I thought to long about anything. Specifically what could be six feet under the ground.

 

To be fair though… I’d like to be cremated. If anybody reads this ten years after my death, and they buried me? Please, dig up my bones. No, I will not haunt you, if it’s Ryan who finds this, and if so, I’m sorry for leaving you alone and afraid, but ghosts aren’t real.

 

Either way, I want my ashes spread in a pot, and for a lemon seed to be planted there.

 

I would like to live on as a lemon tree. Still bitter yet useful, even after death. That way I wouldn’t feel lonely, and you wouldn’t either. And there would be no reason for me to haunt you. Besides, you could always have me around. And the people who miss me could take the lemons from the tree, and be reminded that maybe I wasn’t all that great. I was sour. I kinda was. But I’m still there. Not as a ghost though, fuck ghosts.

Avoiding further thought about the granite steps, I’d opened the doors to HQ.

 

I took in a deep breath. I’d been thinking about it on the car ride over, actually. What I could do to make it all up to Ryan. And I think I had a plan. 

 

At least, I had, but of course, it didn’t work out that way.

 

I moved over, and found Ryan at his desk beside me, which at first quelled my nerves, even if only slightly

 

“Hey,” I said.

 

And Ryan didn't respond.

 

“What's up?”

 

And I watched him like a hawk watched a mouse. Only, I felt more like the mouse.

 

And Ryan just shrugged.

 

So, I sat down at my desk, thinking about my lemon tree.

 

“Look, Ryan. I know something’s wrong… but- I thought I could make it up to you?”

 

Ryan actually looked up at me. 

 

“Yeah- I was… was wondering if maybe you’d like to come over, pick a movie on Netflix. Takeout is on me, and we just. Forget about what happened?”

 

But Ryan looked back at his laptop. “I can’t tonight. Sorry.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I have plans.”

 

I huffed. “Plans?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

And a lemon tree sprouted in the air. 

 

“Ryan- YOu won’t tell me what’s wrong, why are you lying to me?”

 

“I just have plans-”

 

And suddenly, my legs were upright, carrying my swaying  torso, hinging under the stress. 

 

**“Don’t you lie to me- Ryan!”**

 

ANd heads were turning. I saw Brent on the other side of the office look at me funny for a moment- and then Ryan spoke.

 

“Well you lied to. So that makes us even jackass.”

 

“About what?” i now realise it was stupid to ask. 

 

“Why you were late yesterday.”

 

I stiffened. How had RYan known?

 

“You’re not the biggest fan of fairness, are you?” Ryan glared at me, and it pierced through any barrier of glass I could’ve built. 

 

“Move. I have somewhere to be.”

 

But there had to have been a reason why Ryan was still waiting for me at his desk that morning. 

 

If you were wondering, that is the last I heard and saw of him all day. 

 

I’d like to become a Eureka lemon tree, by the way. 

 

The surface of the fruits skinn is more tarnished, scarred and scored when ripe.

 

SPOTD:

 

In the bed, under covers

A comforter that isn’t comforting

In a pillow to suffocate me

I try and fail to raise my head an inch

 

I still sit up for you

 

With all the calamity 

That threatens to eat me alive

Bury me under dust

 

I still stand for you

 

For every step forward

I take fourteen back

 

I still walk for you

 

When I try to stand my ground

The ground wants to bury me under itself

 

I still try for you 

 

When all I show is sadness

All I do is hurt

And you still reach out

 

I feel as though you’re trying too.

 

For every dream

Every illusion that you love me back

I know it’s a lie

 

I wake up in bed all over again.

 

The sun is a little dimmer each day.

 


	6. F is for Foolhearty

December 14th,

 

It had been a long time since I’ve sat so obediently in the therapists waiting room. 

 

I wonder how much has changed in that time in between?

 

I used to be in here all the time as a kid, and back in Chicago, where there was a mental health professional every other block. Don't ask me why, it was a weird city, that kind of place. in California I’d also dropped by for a few visits since I moved, but nothing with anybody I’d ever see again. One-offs, when I was too drunk or too self-conscious to talk to anybody else.

 

I heard the inherent ticking of a clock and eyed a plump man waiting for me, who was trembling like there was an earthquake under him that only he could feel. I wondered for a moment what the hell his deal was before I reminded myself that it was probably none of my goddamn business and that I had my own problems to deal with. 

 

There was a forty-second tune of one noted simplistic piano music droning out from over the speakers, that just looped and looped. A song that was there, but you’d never remember. I think It annoyed me more than relax me. 

 

Finally, the door from the well air-conditioned room cracked open and a stern looking woman came out. She was strong, in low high heels that clacked along the floor with every step. She wasn’t particularly tall, but she stood on the ground like she had roots plated into the floor with every step. Taller than redwood trees in spirit. I felt somewhat intimidated by her. 

 

She didn’t wear makeup and looked like she might passionately fist fight anybody who told her she had too. She didn’t look violent, but she certainly appeared headstrong.    
  
I don’t know what it was about her that struck me first, But I immediately felt a little more ease. She was somebody I somewhat trusted to take control.

 

“Shane?” She asked, looking at me and the large man with a clipboard in her hand. Her long fingernails were long and red.

 

I stood up and nodded at her, and she smiled, brushing some of her somewhat matted wild black hair from out of their face, and behind her ear, with small hoop earrings hanging from them. 

 

“Come on back.” She nodded at the door, and I followed her behind a one-way locked door, up some stairs, and hung a left. 

 

The stairs were creaky, and I felt like I was the heaviest thing to have ever walked up to them, even though I wasn’t. 

 

Physically and emotionally speaking, that is.

 

The wood underfoot was weak and flimsy and creaked as I moved over it, and at the end of the hallway, she opened her office door. 

 

I followed her in. She must double as a family counselor because there was an armchair, her office chair, and two couches, plenty of room for a small group.

 

The room was spacious for a therapy office. There was an entire shelf of board games and legos for child therapy. 

 

It was lavender and warm, and the rug underfoot was loose and thick. 

 

I closed the door behind me, and finally, she held her hand out to me.   
  
“Nice to meet you, Shane, My name is Keshanti, I’ll be your new counselor.”

 

I took her hand and shook it, she had a firm grasp.

 

“Nice to meet you.”

 

She smiled at me, before gesturing for me to have a seat, which was nice. I always felt weird and posting when I sat down at somebody's place without their permission. She sat in her office chair, turned away from her computer, which was running far too many tabs to be productive.

 

“So Shane, I’ve gotten some background checks on you, and I’ve been looking into your medical history… And I think I’ve got a strong Idea of what’s happening in that head of yours, but what’s really missing for me is context.”

 

I nodded. Here comes the part where she tries and fails to get me to properly communicate all of my problems to her, a stranger, as me, Shane, a completely helpless guy when it comes to helping himself, containing emotions, and communicating properly with other people. 

 

“Context…?”

 

She shrugged. “I can already kinda tell that you know what I mean.”

 

“How’d you know?”

 

“I’m physic.”  She said, without faltering.

 

“What?”

 

“Just kidding. I just have good intuition.”

 

I slumped forward. She was going to be a tricky one.

 

“Okay… well, tell me what’s wrong, if you’re so smart?”

 

SHe leaned forward. 

  
“Well, Shane… I have a gut feeling I can.”

 

I sniffed. “Wow me.”

 

“Well, looking at your papers here... Somebody like yourself, displaying signs of desperation, overexposure to solitude, and... feelings of craving conclusion.”

 

“And?”

 

She leaned forward. 

 

“Tell me, Shane… how is your love life going?”

 

And I flinched.

 

“Hit it spot on, huh?” She asked and I didn’t even need to respond. 

 

“Well, what’s wrong, bad break up? Unrequited love?”

 

I just looked down at my feet. 

 

“Both, actually.”

 

She perked up. “Where do you start?” She asked.

  
“That’s a good question… I’m…” And I took a deep breath. 

 

Completely exposed to the stranger, I confessed it. 

  
  
  


“I’m In love with my best friend. Ryan Bergara.”

 

  
  


Dear Ryan, 

 

If you ever find this journal after my passing. 

 

First, I want to be a lemon tree. And Second, I’m so sorry I handed you more trouble when you didn’t ask, not want, nor deserve it. And thirdly, I truly did mean it. 

 

I love you.

 

And I’m sorrier then words can say.

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

 

Keshanti was looking at me- with the critical eyes of a hawk, it reminded me of you, Ryan. 

 

And those eyes broke me. Not hers, Yours.

 

Soon, I was fumbling about, tears slowly trying to claim their win in a face down to my jawline, but none of them winning as I wiped them away from self consciously far too fast. 

 

I told her everything. It was the first time any counselor ever got so much information out of me. It was cold in that room, and She handed me a fleece blanket, that many five-year-olds probably clutched as they melted down in front of adults who had their life together. And I was one of them. 

 

I told her everything. About Unsolved, about Ryan, and me loving him more than anybody else on the face on the face of this planet, trying to move past it, but not being able too. How he was so upset with me, and how I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to bear it. 

 

How he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, how I only ever caused him trouble, how much happier, better he was when I was gone. That I loved him, but I was a poison. 

 

Once all the tears had died out, and all I was left with was stuttering word that didn’t fall easily from my mouth, She finally asked a question I never thought pertinent to this conversation. 

 

Or… one-way ramble.

 

Either way, she pursed her lips, and I clung tight to the blanket around me. 

 

“Shane… what would you say is something that’s personal to you?”

 

And I felt stupid, foolish when I responded. 

 

“Honestly…? I kinda like poetry.”

 

And I could almost taste her judgment.

 

“I’m not good at it, and I mean… Ryan doesn’t know about it, nobody does, it’s just a... me thing, you know?”

 

She leaned forward. “Well Shane, I think we have a recipe for success here.”

 

“We do?” I asked.

 

“We do… Ryan feels like you’re shutting him out of your life. Not talking to him, internalizing everything, lying to him. He’s also probably not in a great mood for other people after his recent breakup as well. He expects you to be the ideal friend, even while your self-destructing right along with him. You need to somehow remind him that he is, in fact, as important to you as you say he is.. and that starts with something personal.”

 

“Are you telling me to write a poem?”

 

“If you think that it would personally touch Ryan, then yes. Write him a poem. Or five.”

 

And just like that, I had a plan slapped before me. 

 

I talked with her for a while more, but I was already trapped in my head. I think I like Keshanti. I appreciate the no bullshit attitude and the quickness of her eyes. 

 

I stepped out of the office afraid. Afraid of myself. And also content. I think I was getting a grasp on what was wrong, but I wouldn’t know until tomorrow.

 

Tomorrow I’ll write.

 

But I just finished watching some shitty game show, and I’m ready to kick it. 

 

I’ll do it tomorrow.

 

It’ll come. 

 

I hope.

  
  


SPOTD:

 

When I buried myself alive

The dirt didn't want me

When I cut my skin open

The knife flinched away

When I tried to drink the poison

It had no effect

“you are already toxic,” it said

“There is no work for me to finish.”

 

When I tried to love you

You only hurt

When I tried to hold you

You were the ghost I was seeking

When I reached out to you

You disappeared. 

“I was never there, to begin with,” You said.

“You were just insane.”

 

When you laugh

I melt

When you help me

I become selfish

When I see you

I kick my facts

And fiction takes its place.

 

You’re up in the clouds

I am down to earth

But when it comes to each other

It’s the reverse.

You see with clarity 

And I see the hauntings.

Inside my own walls,

I built just to keep you in.

 

Or was it to push you away?


	7. G is for Groundless

Poems for Ryan:

 

_~~Your eyes, they shine like no sun could~~ _

_~~Your core is so deep and hard~~ _

_~~Your tears well up, water spilling over, burning away the ice before it bubbles out~~ _

_~~The surface of your skin is warm, yet shaking~~ _

_~~The gravity of you keeps pulling me in~~ _

_~~The wind, gas, that blows around, moving hair into your face, was nothing compared to how you blew me away~~ _

_~~When you move around me, I am grounded at the center~~ _

_~~When you freeze over, I draw you closer to the heat~~ _

_~~When you blink I fear that you’ll miss me, forget me in this universe you’ve built out of yourself.~~ _

 

~~~~

 

_Sometimes when you are buried in research_

_Leaning all the name of people who never made it_

_I do the same_

_Leaning the faces of those who did_

 

_There’s something electrifying_

_About living on the edge_

_So many things that a partner can’t do_

_That a partner in crime can_

 

_When it comes to you, I would do anything_

_I would rob I would cheat I would steal_

_I would kill_

_Force them to not make it_

_Just so you and I could_

 

_But justice always comes in the end_

_And that is where partners tend to be better._

 

-Shane Madej

  
  
  


_Bullseye_

_You struck that part of me_

_The one that craves to be alone_

_Sharpshooter_

_You never miss_

_Me, the way I miss you_

_Hawkeye_

_You read me_

_Like I read worthless books_

_Cord_

_Like the one you strike with me_

_When you say my name_

_That chill of dread_

_As I remember how unworthy I am_

_you shot me down._

_Unintentionally_

_But meant to be so._

 

-Shane Madej

  
  


_~~If you took away my brain~~ _

_~~I would forget you~~ _

_~~If you took away my eyes~~ _

_~~I wouldn’t see you~~ _

_~~If you took away my heart~~ _

_~~I wouldn’t miss you~~ _

_~~If you took away my legs~~ _

_~~I wouldn’t chase after you~~ _

_~~If you took away any part of me~~ _

_~~I wouldn’t be me~~ _

_~~Because I wouldn’t be you.~~ _

 

~~-Shane Madej~~

  


_I can walk_

_I can run_

_I can soak in the sun_

_I can hide_

_I can die_

_I can stand up and lie_

_I can crash_

_And collapse_

_And I will._

 

-Shane Madej

  


_I am human_

_When I stand_

_I fall_

_When I try_

_There is error_

_But you are as well_

_Where there is grey_

_There is misunderstanding_

_And where there is me_

_There is You_

_There is us_

_There is forgiveness._

 

-Shane Madej

  


_Sorry Isn't enough, I’m sorry_

_Oh, I try and try, I’m sorry_

_Right and left, I’m sorry_

_Right and wrong, I’m sorry_

_You and me, forgiveness._

 

-Shane Madej

 

_~~Ryan Bergara~~ _

_~~A friend, a light~~ _

_~~Winged angel, unlike any other~~ _

_~~Supporting, clever~~ _

_~~Ryan.~~ _

 

~~-Shane Madej~~

 

_I don’t know if you meant to me_

_What i hope_

_I meant to be_

_I wished this to be easy_

_But now i face defeat_

_I know that trying is all i need to do_

_And i know that one time i'll eventually make it though_

_I know that all i have to do is press ahead_

_But no matter what i do- all i see ahead_

_Is failure. A mistake._

_No other way to go._

 

-Shane Madej

 

_~~I love you~~ _

_~~I know~~ _

_~~It’s hard~~ _

_~~It’s stupid~~ _

_~~It’s undeniable~~ _

_~~I love you~~ _

 

December 15th,

 

It’s been a long day. I was writing poetry on everything. Every surface I could think of,  it never had it been so hard before. I wrote all kinds of poetry but at the same time….

 

I have no idea what on this earth I would be okay with Ryan seeing. I had no idea how to write a poem that he could read, enjoy and not make things weird. Trust me, I wrote everything

 

Haikus, acronyms rhyming, freeform, happy, sad, apologetic.

 

I spend all day, writing poems off and on whenever Ryan’s not looking. Typed, handwritten, edited, revisited and one-offs, but nothing stuck.

 

I didn’t know what reaction I was looking for, what kind of poem would fix this whole mess, what this “whole mess” really entailed.

 

It took me a long time, long until my lunch break, and long after work, before I finally made a poem that I thought was good enough to be shared… and it went like this:

  
  


_I sit waiting in a room, for people to tell me what to do_

 

_Nothing can satisfy the hole she left in my heart_

_Everybody knows that I don't have emotions_

_Everybody is mistaken_

_Do you know the rhyme? About sticks and stones?_

 

_You know how alone and empty I feel?_

_Overpressured, I wake up in the mornings, wanting to die._

_Useless, I have to ask for help._

 

_My god, don’t you dare tell me that hurts more than a broken bone._

_You know that I’m not good at communication_

 

_Lord knows you’re right… but it’s high time you know, that something isn’t right._

_Opened, an illness in my brain, something that claimed me long ago._

_Vainly, I tried to resist depression, but no therapy or medication could really help._

_Everybody but you is wrong._

 

_So when I tell you that I’m sorry, I mean it_

_That you always listen when others won’t?_

_Aboriginality it is not, I’ve been fighting more demons then you think you’ve ever ‘seen’_

_You are my only way to battle them._

 

_Thank you for returning the favor._

  
  


And that’s where the poem ends.

 

Even now, as I hand write it neater, on better paper, I’m nervous.

 

This whole ordeal is killing me. Ryan left ten minutes ago, not looking back. He spoke ten maybe twelve words to me today. And I think those were the greatest dozen words of my life. It's so strange, suddenly being deprived of something so vital.

 

I just pray that tomorrow, Ryan will read the poem… horizontal.

 

Please god, not the other way I pray.

 

If I even thought you out there, on these dark, dark days.


	8. H is for Harboring

December 16th,

I don’t know what I was expecting really, as I put Ryan's poem onto his desk in a neat fold.

Longing struck me. I wanted to turn back, but it was too late.

Oh god… that was all I remembered thinking. What have I done now? 

Virtue is not a word I’d apply to my situation.

Eyeing the poem before Ieft didn’t help. 

You sometimes regret things in life, right?

Outing yourself for past mistakes.

Undercutting yourself for the stupid things you do…

…

And this morning, I’d agree. I felt like my day was going to be shot from the start, shitty all over. Ryan was going to hate me forever… I was so tense, that by the time I was skipping up the concrete steps to work, that still reminded me of gravestones, I didn’t realize that I’d forgotten to eat breakfast, or drink coffee or tea of any kind. Any headache from this point on I deserved.

I’d just dressed, and mentally prepared myself by crawling back into bed and pretending to sleep for another twenty minutes before I called an Uber. 

And every last step I took felt like five as I dodged corners trying to get to my workspace. 

Now, in that moment, it may have just been me, but I felt like everybody was avoiding my eyes. And I get it. You have to crane your neck to look at me, but everybody was staring even lower than normal. 

And when my office came into view… when I saw Ryan…

I knew it was all lost. 

Ryan was tucked over himself, like there was an invisible weighted blanket around him, like me in Keshanti’s office, something that was grounding him to reality. 

And as I quickly approached, I made out with great clarity… tears. 

Ryan was clutching onto his poem, eyes scanning it over and over, back and forth, like a metronome. Water welling up in his eyes. 

“Ryan?”

It’s probably the most scared I’ve ever been with Ryan. If you ignore the fear I felt second-hand, radiating off of him giving him a pep talk on the Sallie house porch. 

And only then did Ryan look up. 

“Hey…” Was all I could say as I stepped closer. Have I mentioned that I’m really not a people person? I’m not.

“H-hey…” Ryan said, staring up at me. “Shane… this poem.”

I notice that his hand is quivering slightly as he sets that page down on the desk, face down, before he looks up at me (physically, not metaphorically… I hope) and stands up slowly on wobbly knees. 

And it practically tumbles out of him like a tidal wave, he crashes into me, I have to catch myself with another foot behind me, as his arm grabs on me, clutching me like a vice. 

“I’m so sorry, Shane! I’m so… so sorry…”

I blink, and I suddenly feel like I don’t know what to do with my hands. And after a moment, of Ryan squeezing all the air from out of my lungs without squeezing at all, My hands find their way around his hips.

I used to think there was a no difference between hugging someone and holding someone. But in that moment, I found the difference. It’s not something tangible… but there I was HOLDING Ryan. I was holding him close, knowing that in my heart, he was the most precious thing on the surface of the planet. I held him, as close as I could. My face was suddenly hit by the waves that Ryan was omitting. I could feel it going red. Nervousness, contact, It didn’t matter. 

When Ryan’s face found it’s way into the crook of my neck, I would bet the legitimacy of ghosts on my lungs having physically withered away. Because I’ll tell you. It felt like it. 

 

His breathing was on my neck, and my chin was at the perfect height to rest on his head. I was really holding him… it was hard to get through my head in the moment. 

I felt like I was walking on a cloud, nothing to ground me, because the one thing that could ground me, was the one place it wasn’t supposed to be. 

With me. 

For a moment, I felt like I might cry too. Knowing that it was all just a dream until I felt Ryan’s hair falling out of place, as he hiccuped once, and a few strands got stuck between his forehead and my neck, and I felt the brush of his stubble on my collarbone. 

And I realized that I didn’t have the kind of imagination to think up something so surreal. 

“I’m so sorry Shane. I had no idea.”

Ryan squirmed a little in my grip, and it took me a moment to realize that he was reaching upwards to loop his arms around my neck.

Had I not woken up, feeling so hollow, I might’ve been giddy, and fainted. 

I was giddy, I just wasn’t processing the whole thing, but I’ll tell you what, if this wasn’t daydreaming material for my… almost daily, morning, lovesick heartache sessions? I don’t know what was. 

Because as it stands, Ryan had been holding me like… like I was his boyfriend. Like he loved me with his whole heart, which, I wish was true. Let me tell you… but it isn’t. 

“Shane… how long have you had depression?”

And I could still feel his fingertips brushing over the start of my hairline on the nape of my neck. 

“A long time.”

Ryan swore quietly into my skin, And I won’t lie. I would stand there all day if I could. My feet could go numb, and my stomach grows empty, all I needed was this. 

“Shane… you're not a jerk… I’m so sorry if you felt that way… I just… you and me… other people? I’m just… I'm kind of in a weird spot…”

“I know…. I know you are, it’s okay…”

And I think Ryan was trying to shift closer to me in that moment, aside from the fact that our fronts were already touching. ANd we couldn’t physically get any closer. 

“I’m so sorry… I’ve been such an asshole- I know you shouldn’t forgive me- but…”

“Ryan… It’s okay.”

And the only other thing I really remember from today, Was my heart after I said that. 

Ryan nuzzled into my neck further, and I could feel little droplets of tears spreading around as he did, still holding him.

My heart was like a metronome. 

Like a drum. 

Like the waves crashing to a seashore. 

Ryan crashing into me. 

Beating. Thumping. jumping. Filling. 

And I knew- I was in too deep to crawl out now. 

SPOTD:

When you tell me NO  
When you have to hurt me  
By wanting the best for me  
But having to tell me  
That you aren't the best for me  
When your waves roll onto a different beach

It’s okay, It’s okay.

When you say goodbye  
Instead of asking to stay  
I understand

It’s okay, it’s okay

When you shoot me down  
I'll have to remember  
I’ve had my heart broken before  
Do it once, do it twice

It’s okay it’s okay

Fake it until you make it  
And make it up as you go  
It’s okay, it’s okay  
The golden rule of improve,   
Don’t say no...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technically... i had 31 minutes till midnight? I MADE IT GODDAMNIT


	9. I is for Insanity

  
December 17th,

I'm not quite sure what happened in my subconscious but there was something there that wasn't there before.

I woke up this morning nestled even deeper into my covers. Feeling just the right amount warm. As hot as could be, without sweating. Nestled into my bed, and I hated the thought of emerging for a long time.

  
It had been a dream, I knew… but god. I wish it wasn't.

It just started as me, staring down at your hands, entwined in mine…

And our matching rings clicked together as I held your hands in mine.

Your skin was so smooth, I could almost feel it, even if you went there when I thought you were.

It all came over me at once. A whole lifetime unfolding like an origami crane that didn't fly.

I could see you, holding me around my hips, grinning widely under snowfall. I could see hot summer days with you… ice tea and fans blowing. I could see a spring walk, you pointing at all the budding flowers on the sides of the road, telling me that a new start was possible, and waiting for me. A fall day, you in gloves, blinking as the wind nipped at your face, and you drew closer to me. And closer. And I melt into your arms.

I could see you laughing behind your hands, I could see you going overboard with valentine's day, or any reason to celebrate us…

Ryan… I was a fool. I knew it. Ever since that pep talk on the Sallie house porch. All the times I stumbled over myself, trying to find the right words to inspire you, and never being able too.

Yet somehow, you knew what I meant. You knew what I was trying to tell you… and instead of running. You stood strong. And I knew.

In that moment, I knew for certain that I was being foolhardy. I loved you. It was right in front of me the whole time. But reaching out wouldn't let me touch it. And that's what stung most of all.

And when I woke up, I couldn't shake the thought. You smiling at me, looking back at me just the same way I look at you, yet it's all your own.

It's so strange that way. How you define things I don't even know exist without words.

The way you chew your lips. The way it pulls me in like a magnet, how I want to move as close to you as possible, and kiss you, holding you again, pressed up against me.

I used to feel like I needed space in relationships… but I have a gut feeling not that they weren't really love.

I was just so ready to give myself something, I lost you I the process. Even if you were right there.

I need you to be close to me, Ryan. Like I’ve never needed anything else before.

I know that it would be okay that way too. We’d work together as one unit. I know we would.

By the time I got to work, Chatting with my Uber driver, I still couldn’t get the idea out of my mind.

The knowledge that you and I could work together like a well-oiled machine meant to be… It was amazing.

And I was still dizzy with the notion, spinning in my head, I’d forgotten about walking up the steps and through the doors, and reality really only honed in once I got to my office, and saw you sitting back in your chair, feet kicked back up on the desk, reading a book.

You looked up at me this morning, right into my eyes, set down your book, and stood for me.

And suddenly, I swept up by Ryan, by you… all over again.

I’m not sure why suddenly I’m accounting all of this like Ryan would read it.

Then again… I can’t imagine anybody else ever finding this.

Whatever.

Either way, Ryan swept me up into his arms, hugging me. Holding me close again. Like suddenly… that barrier between us was broken, and he would hug me. Hold me, every morning.

Probably just wishful thinking though, I must admit… though yesterday was a hazy flurry, I do remember having an extra beer…

Fuck.

I tried to break that pause that gripped me close and found it in myself to wrap my arms around him. He’s so small and golden… he bent up, on his tiptoes just to get his chin over my shoulder.

The hug… probably shouldn’t have lasted so long. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to bad out of it first, so he let Ryan repel it in his own time.

“Hey…” Ryan smiles up at him, and good god, there were angels. They’re wandering around your neighborhoods.

Go outside… look around. They are everywhere. You’ll find them in the funniest places.

Either way… Ryan sat down again, And before he could launch into a long plan for the day, which he loves to tell me… for some reason… (he’s a funny one, that Ryan Bergara. But I love him.)

And I care.

But before his eyes even catch that childish sparkle of excitement that they always happen to do…

“What are you reading…?” I ask, as casually as I can, but as we all know by now... Casual isn’t my forte.

“Oh!” Ryan smiled, picking his book up again, and showing me the cover.

“It’s ‘Don’t Call Us Dead’ by Danez Smith… I picked it up from the library last night… who knew that poetry was so great?”

I blinked at it, inspecting the cover. It sure as hell looked familiar. “Poetry?”

And Ryan smiled. “Well yeah! I’ve never really… read any poetry before… well, like, outside of school. But- how am I going to write you a response poem if I can’t write poetry myself?”

  
“Wait-” And I had to stop for a moment. “You’re going to… write a poem back to me?”

Ryan smiled at me, and I swear I got so much weaker yet more powerful when he looked at me like that.

“Well yeah! It’s only right, I think.” He shrugged then turned on his laptop. “I won’t be around much today… I’m helping Jen with a shoot… sorry.”

“What? Oh, no- it’s fine.” I lied, though, in a way, I wasn’t sure how much longer this lie of composure was going to last.

Ryan just huffed. “It’s a shame though, I’d like to hang out…”

And I pretended to start to open up my programs. “I think I can make that happen, just like… we can talk tomorrow, alright?”

“Sure thing partner.”

And he stood up to leave, and I could’ve reached out. I could’ve gotten the last word in…

But I let him go.

This isn’t good for me but;

I love it so much.

Not quite a start;

And not quite a finish

SPOTD:

Illusions are what happens when your true self, betrays your character before you can betray it.

Dreams are fragmented illusions. Foreboding what's right in front of your face, but you can't see

Because the world is too complicated to focus on one thought. One action. One person. And we have become masters of ignorance though evolution.  
But you seemed to skip the genetic steps it took to get there.

And I am over thinking, over-intellectualizing. When in reality it's so simple

But you're so perfect… I can't believe that I'm over thinking things at all, not until I'm drowning in a whirlpool of mistakes, pulling me under and away from you, the sun, when you were right there the whole time.

I could've basked in your light. I could've lived the dream. But it wasn't enough for me.

Fly too close to you and I melt, I lose composure before your eyes

Fly to far and I freeze over, misery claiming me.

You are dangerous. And that isn't an illusion.

 


	10. J is for Jeopardy

December 18th,

 

I woke up this morning, with my phone buzzing away, alarm beeping. I’d forgotten hitting the snooze button. 

 

I look down at my phone once it’s in my hand, and I smile. Ryan texted me all of last night… and it was amazing. 

 

We ended up going out to see the new star wars movie together the night before. He was so dorky, earbuds to avoid spoilers until we were in the theater. 

 

It was alright, as far as movies go… derivative at parts, but way better than rogue one. 

 

The added bonus of it was in the final fight… In front of the fort? Ryan was shrinking behind his arms, holding his every breath in nervousness. 

 

Now, I’m no doctor, but I’m eighty percent sure that ALL of Ryan’s systems are nervous.

 

Either way, we knocked off for a drink afterward. Ryan sat close to me as we had beers. 

 

When I offered to call an Uber, it slipped to Ryan that my car was busted, and in the shop, and would be for another week or so.

 

All I can really remember is him telling me that he could drive me to work instead. Carpooling, so long as we could stop for coffee. 

 

And after work, he texted me that he wasn’t feeling well and that he probably would take a day off work. 

 

We chatted a little more. About our move. I felt like his mother as I texted him obvious steps and remedies, but he seemed to appreciate it, and I just fell a little deeper in.

 

When that floor came rushing up to meet me, it was going to hurt. 

 

And a text awaited me, that confirmed that he was going to be missing at work, and I needed to get that uber. It was sent at three in the morning with a smiley face. And I assumed he was asleep in bed right about now. 

 

So, I got ready for work, but as I looked out my window, with my coffee, I saw that the mailman stopped by my mailbox, which made me pause. 

 

I didn’t subscribe to the newspaper. Not when you can get it online, and save the paper… and as far as I could remember I wasn’t expecting any packages…

 

So I trudged outside, coffee still in hand, in my sweatpants, and opened up my mailbox, just as the mailman was driving away. 

 

I flipped it over. It was a thin envelope, hand addressed to me. Clearly not junk mail, and was a pretty tan color, with a Hallmark Logo on it. 

 

The return address was to Jake Bergara, and I nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee when I read that. 

 

“Jake…?”   
  


I scurried back inside, the Coffee in my mug sloshing around as I did, and ripped the letter open.

 

In big, loopy letters that looked to be formed with dark blue Crayola marker, it read “Join Us! You’re Invited!”

 

I shook my head, trying to piece together if I was in bed having some kind of fever dream or not before I flipped it open. 

 

“Hey, Shane! Ryan called me up yesterday… and said he wanted to invite you over for Christmas if you didn’t have any other plans. He wanted me to send you an invitation card, like a dork, but just ask him for details if you turn out to be available. Hope you’re doing well!

 

Best regards, Jake”

 

 

And that’s where I lost it. 

 

I don’t want to relive… every detail, but I ended up squealing into my cup of coffee, feeling a surreal giddiness as I stared up at the low sun behind the horizon out my window, clutching that card tightly. It’s probably the greatest paper I’d ever gotten…

 

Until an hour later, that is. 

 

When I called my Uber driver, I was lightheaded. Smiling to myself. I tried to focus and send the perfect response to RYan so he’d get it when he woke up. 

 

“Hey! I just got an invitation for Christmas from your brother? I’d love to come- thank you so much for thinking of me!”

 

And I hit the send button. 

 

Flying up the steps and into the building with a smile, I knew it was going to be a boring day at work without Ryan, but I was helping the Try guys with a project, so it wasn’t a big loss…

 

Only… I saw a paper, taped to my computer monitor, and I stopped. 

 

I approached it, looked closer, the plucked off the tape, and held it up, so I could read it. 

  
  


**Dusk And Dawn**

 

**There are so many things about you**

**That reminds me of the night**

**I don’t know if it’s the way you stand**

**Or the treachery in your eyes**

**Your coffee smells like dark forests**

**And your wit is like a beasts'**

**Your demeanor is cold and quiet**

**You will not hear a peep**

**You are deep and eerie**

**To those when they first meet you**

**But once you open up to us**

**There’s something there inside of you**

**You can hold me like the fog**

**Surround me completely**

**You can shine like the stars**

**And guide my way back home**

**I hope that one day**

**We’ll set aside our differences yet**

**Merge night and day**

**For an eternal dusk at dawn**

 

**-Ryan Bergara**

 

…

 

I was amazing, to say the least. I was floored that… poem. That was his first ever poem. He had such a knack for it, but more importantly…

 

I squinted at the bottom of the page, and I could see a few words that had been erased away. I held it up to the light for a better look…

 

Most of them were words from the poem… but another word I could make out was “eclipse” and “Seasons.” 

 

Either way, this was now officially the best paper I’d ever gotten in my life. 

 

I can’t believe Ryan would say those things about me… to me…

 

It was on m mind the whole day, and I’d completely forgotten about the Christmas invite until Ryan texted me on my lunch break.

 

“Hell yeah! So glad you can make it! I’m still in bed… ready to die- but we can talk about it later.”

 

To which, I took a brave stance.

 

“Still in bed? Buddy… do you want me to come keep you company?”

 

To which I got a disappointing response.    
  
“Nah… I think I’m going to just keep sleeping. Thanks though, have a great day!”

 

And just for him… I tried too. 

 

When I got back home from work I really relaxed, kicked back, turned on an episode of scrubs with some tea…

 

It was a good day for me and my little lemon tree.

 

SPOTD:

 

Everybody has their demons

Everybody tames them differently

They weave their wicked ways into everybody’s hearts and souls differently

And it’s hard to rip the seams out alone

Without our demons, we are without our angels

So we must find the people

Who’s demons like to play with ours

Who can remind us that a demon is inside everybody

 

Somebody just the right amount insane and on track

The right amount straight and a wreck

The right amount dark and light

The right amount angel and devil

 

But maybe we forget that our demons are people too…

 

they can love like any heavenly angel could

And the angels could hate with ferocity

 

Maybe they aren't inside of us and are us

 

And Maybe I’m just a no good devil, trying to understand and reach for your light. 

 

I hope that you might look down from cloud nine to see me…

 

Because I don’t play well with the demons down here.


	11. K is for Knotted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are getting so hard to keep punctually posting but I'm trying! I hope you are still enjoying whatever the fuck this is

December 19th, 

 

This morning, Ryan wouldn’t text me.

In itself, not a bad thing at all, in reality at least...

 

I assumed he was asleep, and sick again. 

 

There was no mail this morning, and my day really got started once I was in the Uber.

 

My Uber driver was a girl with short curly hair, who, when I stepped in, had a CD of older music playing lowly. I didn’t mind at first, but after the first song ended, came a punch in the gut. 

 

“You are my sunshine… My only sunshine…”

 

I froze, staring out the window, in disbelief. There was no way. No way in hell that she was… not this song.

 

“You make me happy… when skies are grey…”

 

I buried my face in my hands. What rotten luck. This used to be Sarah's favorite song.

 

It was our song.

 

I gazed out the window, focusing on every word, only to find that it didn’t have all the emotions tied to it that I thought it would. 

 

In fact, it felt hollowed out. Maybe I really  _ didn’t  _ have emotion. 

 

Or maybe I’m just ready to fill that song with a different meaning. 

 

Still, I could feel my body having a physical reaction to it, my eyes were watering a slight amount, but emotionally I wasn’t offset whatsoever. 

 

Which was almost worse in a way.

 

The only sunshine I could really think about was Ryan's poem. If I was the night… he was the day. He was my sunshine…

 

But maybe everything in my life is contrasting to fit Ryan in some way. I was starting to think so.

 

 

Well… it didn’t really matter. 

 

Either way, I gotta work and found Ryan’s desk empty. I would be doing a lot of writing for scripts and planning today. 

 

Still… THere was something that had to be said for Ryan skipping two full days of work. He never did that… Ryan rarely got sick and hated using his sick days.

 

I shot Ryan a fast text. 

  
“Hey there, you sleeping Wookie… feeling okay?” And I hoped that he would be awake by lunch.

 

Only… there was nothing. Lunch rolled around, and I heard nothing from Ryan. 

 

So… even though I get very self-conscious about texting multiple times, I felt desperate and worried enough to ignore. 

 

“Yo doing alright? I’m worried, buddy.”

 

And I waited. 

 

However, by the end of my lunch break, there was still no response from Ryan. Surely he wasn’t still asleep. I knew he wouldn’t be, and Ryan never ignored my texts…

 

Unless he was mad at me again?

 

“Ryan? Did I do something wrong?”

 

And I waited. Only, two minutes felt like twenty, and all of the sudden I was coming down with a heavy headache. 

 

I texted him again a half hour after. Just a simple:

 

“Ryan?”

 

But nothing came. And by the clock finally deemed I was released for the day, I knew that I couldn’t stay.

 

“Ryan… unless you respond to this text- I’m coming over to make sure that you’re not dead.”

 

And I held my breath. 

 

“Don’t come over.”

 

The response was so fast, so immediate.

 

“Are you mad at me?” I asked because it was a fair question, as I eyed the Starbucks a block away, and debated stopping for coffee before calling my Uber. 

 

And immediately came: “No.”

 

“Then I’m coming over. You're not faring well… just to check in on you.”

 

I knew I was stubborn, and pushing too far, but if I didn’t, who would?   
  


“Shane. You don’t want to come over.”

 

“Yes. I do. I’m bringing coffee. I’ll get your usual.”

 

“Shane- don’t. There’s no need.”

 

But now it was my turn to ignore him. 

 

I will admit, Getting in an Uber with two Starbucks drinks burning my hands, even with the cardboard sleeves, and asking to go to an address that isn’t your own? Probably looked a little sketchy. Especially as the driver pulled over at Ryan’s house, which had a car out front. 

 

But I tipped them well, so it didn’t really matter. 

 

I skipped up Ryan’s steps, which just so happened to be brick, rather than concrete. However, these steps reminded me of gravestones more than Buzzfeed Offices’ did this morning. 

 

I knocked on his door. Knuckles rapping against the metal frame.

 

“Ryan?!” I called out. 

 

“Ryan?! It’s me! Shane?”

 

But I didn’t hear any response. So I tried the doorbell.

 

I smiled hearing the doorbell go off. It was the classic Big Ben clock chime. Which is a tune I rather enjoy? Though, I’m not sure why. I and Ryan got to hear it for real when we went to London. I remembered that he was holding my hands at the time because it was cold, we’d both forgotten gloves. 

 

Only there was still nothing coming to the door. 

 

So I tested the handle, only to find the door open. 

 

And I wandered in bravely, toeing off my shoes quickly, and closing the door behind me. 

 

“Ryan?” I called out, but all the lights seemed to be off. 

 

“Go away, Shane!”

 

And I turned to find the voice. I was coming from Ryan’s bedroom.

 

I carefully approached the door. 

 

“Ryan?”

 

“No, Shane! Don’t come in!”

 

Only it was too late because I opened the door and found Ryan on the floor, with his bed to his bed, staring up at me with a panicked graze in his eyes. Bottles of Beer and Whisky adorned the room, and his dog, PIston, on his lap. EYes drooping over. 

 

The bed was in shambles like Ran had tossed and turned in it all night, all the blankets were at the foot of the bed, and the entire room has heavy with the stench of alcohol, which permeated the air. 

 

“Ryan?”   
  


And Ryan looked down. Looking oddly ashamed.

 

“I told you to go away.”

 

I frowned. “Well, you’re lucky that I don't listen to you. What happened?”

 

And Ryan just shrugged. 

 

“I don’t know… things… this and that…”

 

“Those are the most hollow answers ever,” I told him moving in, at his side, and kneeling down, and holding Ryan’s respective coffee cup out to him. Piston at least looked happy to see me. His tail wagging slightly. 

 

“Well, You’ll need to give me a minute before I can come up with a good enough lie.”   
  


“No lying Ryan… I brought coffee… You can talk to me. I just… I had that best friend instinct that you weren't doing to good… I needed to drop by. Make sure you were safe.”

 

“You know me too well.” He huffed but accepted the Starbucks. “It’s just… Everything has been pretty shitty recently.”

 

“Why?”   
  


“You know… I just… With Helen gone. The house seems so empty... It’s driving me insane. And you and Sarah? I just feel like we’re all falling apart.”

 

And I smiled at him. 

 

“Well, at least We’re falling apart together.”

 

Ryan huffed something that emulated lightheartedness.

 

“I guess we are… It’s just been. I’ve been so lonely… and you just…”

 

He clutched Piston closer to him and didn’t look at me. 

 

“God Shane, how can you even stand me?”

 

I smiled at him. “Because you’re amazing. Even if you can’t see it… I think you’re one of the brightest stars that ever did shine.”

 

I was joking. Mostly. But he did laugh at that, which, full disclosure, made me feel like a million bucks. 

 

“Okay, we get it! You’re a poet!”   
  


I elbowed him lightly. “Damn straight… and if the poem you gave me was anything to go by, so are you.”

 

“Oh! You liked it?” 

 

“It was amazing.”

 

And he met my gaze. “Thanks, Shane…”

 

“And hey... If you think that hanging out with me more might help? I’m pretty free… and the holidays are coming up… so… Bonus points!”

 

Ryan smiles. “I guess you’re right.”

 

And I chuckled out of nervousness. “Drink that coffee buddy, It’ll help the hangover…” As I reached down to scratch Piston’s chin. “Thanks for looking after this good for me, Piston. I appreciate you keeping an eye on him.”

 

“I do too,” Ryan said. “Piston is my little buddy.”

 

And outside the window of Ryan’s room, we drank Starbucks coffee on the floor, as the sun dipped below the industrial California skyline. 

 

The sunshine was gone, making way for the night, and the night undid the knot in my chest. 

 

I slung my arm over Ryan's shoulder drawing him close, and the skies weren't as grey.

 

SPOTD:

 

You are my sunshine, 

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away

 

Your light is blinding

Your warmth, uniting

You make the summers

Seem to stay

Just know I love you

Even if I have to look away

Please, my love, never fail to stay

 

I am the clouds

Up in the atmosphere

Coming to dim you

Balance your light

That means that this way

People can watch you

Just know that I’ll never go away

 

Still, you are my sunshine

The only sunshine

You make me hopeful

All through the night

I hope that one day

You’ll know that I love you

Please never stop shining so bright

 

This sky is mine

This sky is yours

This sky is ours

For us to share

And together

We can do anything

 

The sun and clouds will never disappear...

\- You Are My Sunshine, Rewritten by Shane Madej


	12. L is for Lovelorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are really catching up to me... sorry if there are typos here guys... posted this off my phone at my grandmothers house....

  
December 20th,

I woke up this morning on Ryan's floor, two crumbled Starbucks cups on the floor in front of us, with a sore back and neck, and Ryan in my arms.

His head was rolled in my lap, his hands brought up to his face like a little kitten, snoring softly.

A reached into my pocket only to find that my phone was already at seven percent. And it was currently 6 in the morning.

I looked down at Ryan, still sleeping in my lap when the gravity of the situation really struck me…

I spent the night at Ryan’s house… fell asleep with him, and he’s currently snuggling up to me, and sleeping on my lap?

And I knew that I woke up early from sleeping in such a shitty position, but at the same time…

I timidly shifted a small but, pulling my tailbone further under me, only to find that it was going to hurt no matter what I did.

Piston was nowhere to be found, not that it really mattered when all I could really see was Ryan. His head tucked lightly into my lap, sleeping away… away.

He didn’t seem to be waking up, and I could so easily just pick him up and place him on the bed, make this so less awkward. But my subconscious was already moving to take control, and I ended up reaching out to brush the hair out of his face with light fingers.

He twitched and then settled again, and I knew that this was too nice to pass up.

So I just watched over him.

By the time sun started leaking into the apartment, I was too paranoid of Ryan waking up to see me just… watching him, so I shook him lightly awake.

“Ryan?”

He groaned, and swatted me away, not opening his eyes.

“Helen…?”

And my heart sunk.

“No… It’s me, Shane. Get your lazy ass up.”

“Shane?” And he pried his eyes open. He looked confused, and disoriented, as he took a second to find where my face was in a position to him.

However, he didn’t immediately sit up in shock. He actually raised his head, found my eyes, and dropped back down on my legs.

“Fuck… what happened?”

“We both dropped off. I was giving you moral support and the like…”

“Oh… right…” And Ryan opened his eyes again. “What time is it?”

“About six fifteen.”

Ryan’s head dropped down again, and he groaned. “Why so early?”

“Because you need to eat something and get some caffeine in you because you’re nursing a small hangover still, and we have work in an hour or so.”

  
“Do I have to go?”

“Ryan, you’re three days behind!”

“I don’t wanna go….” He groaned. “I need another day before I can be around assholes.”

And I blinked. “What assholes?”

  
“You don’t wanna know…”

  
“Yes, I do… that’s why I’m asking.”

Ryan dramatically groaned again, before slowly rolling off me, which made me frown a little bit. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Promise?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

And that made me hopeful, that Ryan was back to trusting me again. Somewhat, at least.

“Just… Okay. If you hurry We can go grab breakfast at Jack in the box. There’s one on the way.” Ryan told me. “And we’re going to need to stop by your house… get you some clothes.”

“Thanks, Ryan.”

“Well, no. Thank you, Shane.” Ryan told me. “I gotta be honest… I didn’t want you to see me drinking all of my problems away.”

“You seemed pretty sober when I got here.”

“That’s because I did all the heavy drinking on day one. After leaving your poem, and hearing assholes talk shit.”

“Who was this?”

Ryan stared down at his feet.

“Are you really sure you want to know?”

“Yes, Ryan. That’s why I’m asking you fucking idiot.”

And he sucked in a huge breath. “Well, that’s the thing… It was Sarah… She was… she’s still pretty bitter.”

I frowned. “I know.”

  
“Well, I was hearing her… after you left work… She was talking with Jen… and saying awful things about you… I just don’t want to hear that. I know that you’ve tried so hard to make amends, as far as repairing your friendship will go but… it’s still hard to hear. And hard to be around.”

And to that? I had no true response.

“Come on, Shane…” Ryan said, standing up. “We need to move on.”

________

The conversation didn’t quite pick up again until we were seated that the Jack In The Box. Not quite world class dining, but the owners had gone for the classic red, black and white vintage pub feel that I really enjoy, so it wasn’t all bad.

Finally, I had my laptop, and all the clothes on that I’d needed to walk out the damn door, and I sat at a table across from Ryan.

Good god, I really wasn’t one for theatricals, and I certainly wasn’t one who really liked to get all sappy and gooey… but what the fuck.

Ryan was still so cute in the mornings. All bleary-eyed with messy hair? It gave me a reason to wake up in the morning.

Especially if he was curled into my lap like a child… that helped too.

Seriously though, Just thinking about it again in that booth as we waited for our Breakfast Jacks was enough to have me blushing a little bit. You know, like a horny teenager?

Ryan did weird things to my head.

“Oh shit…”

I looked up to see Ryan staring wide-eyed at his phone screen.

“What? What is it?”

“Damn it! My aunt is dying.”

I suddenly snapped to attention. “What?”

  
“Yeah! I just got a text from Jake… oh… poor thing.”

  
“Oh my god- is she okay?!”

But Ryan just shrugged. “Well… I mean like… she was dying of cancer already… we knew it was going to happen…”

“Are you okay?”

Ryan just set his phone down. “Yeah… I mean, It’s shocking but… she always didn’t like me. Like… she hated me.”

I felt my eyebrows raise. It was hard to imagine people hating Ryan.

“Why?”

  
“Well… she was kind of a conservative asshole… once she heard that I had a boyfriend in high-school She called my mom and told her to throw me out of the house… still, I hope she passes easy. She was an angel to everybody else.”

And I slammed on the brakes, so hard that the world seemed to lurch around me.

“Woah woa-woah-woah-woah. You had a boyfriend before? Why was I not made aware of this? And wait, she did that?! Fuck her!”

Ryan just chuckled. “Yeah… She wasn’t very kind to me, but that doesn’t make her awful. And yeah… I like dudes. Sometimes. Don’t know if I’m Bisexual, pan… doesn’t really matter to me. I like dudes and chicks. Does it need to be any more complicated than that?”

And I frantically tried to recover myself. “Oh! Oh- no, of course not. I’ve just… you’ve never told me… Me too. I uh, I mean… I like men too…”

“Really?” And I didn’t miss the optimistic spark in his eyes.

“Yeah, I do! I uh… Sarah was the first girl I ever dated… and it didn’t end well. Good while it lasted, for sure but…”

“... yeah… I get it… Either way… I hate to tell you but all my family is going to go up to Maine now. Jake just texted to ask if I was coming as well… and I won’t. Not flying all that way for her… so turns out… looks like Christmas is called off… Sorry, Shane.”

And that was a blow, but it was far overshadowed by the hope I felt knowing that Ryan has dated boys in the past. That made my day, nay, my week.

“It’s okay Ryan.. these things happen. Better they go then not… And it looks like you don’t have anybody to celebrate the holidays with now…?”

Ryan huffed. “I guess I don’t know.”

And I checked my phone.

“Well… I mean… I’ll see what I can pull together.”

“What?”

  
“I mean… I think Finn was coming back here for the holidays… maybe you can come to my parent's place. They’d love to see you again.”

“Sounds like a date,” Ryan said, with a wink, and it nearly stole all the air from my lungs.

________

Settling down in the office felt good, now that I had Ryan back. And who knew? Today we were collaborating on a script, the next script for Unsolved True Crime.

The Unsolved murder of Pauline Martz, A woman who was bound and gagged in her own home by an undiscovered man, and the house was set on fire in 1995. There were many people who confessed, sometimes in pairs, sometimes imprisoned, but all had damning evidence against them. Which seemed odd.

Either way, the day sped by as if it was set on double speed when in reality it was just now set on track.

And by the end of the day, I had a broad smile on his face.

“Well… I’m headed home.” Ryan told him, closing his laptop with a snap.

“Oh- cool! Hey, uh… I was wondering if you might want to grab a beer later?”

But Ryan shook his head. “Sorry man… I’ll probably need to make a lot of phone calls about my aunt today… I’ll have a beer at home.”

And it was sad news, I knew. “Okay… I know that stuff can be hard.”

“I’ll figure it out.” He told me, with a goofy smile.

“If you need, you can just… call me up, you know? I won’t be doing anything.”

Ryan nodded. “Thanks, buddy.”

And he left.

He never did call me. Or respond to my texts, but I figured that maybe it was a lot harder to deal with then he thought. Surely he cared more than he was letting on, and was being gallant and sparing me of more emotional relapse because of the news, by avoiding me.

It seemed plausible, at least.

A truth that was sweet and sickening as cough syrup.

SPOTD:

There’s something about you  
That makes you magic  
Like a character who flew  
In a book with nothing tragic  
That we’d read as kids

No wicked witch to hunt me  
No bulldogs that can track me  
Only you and me  
In this fairytale, We’ve made

Doctor Suess,  
Golden goose,  
Rat and fiddle,  
Chicken little,   
Jack and Jill,  
Wheat and mill,  
Beauty and beast,  
Forever sleep,  
Poison apples,  
Jagged teeth,  
With a clock,  
Behind the lock,  
Peter Pan,  
The Tin Man,  
You and me,  
Endless love,  
Happily ever after,  
All above.

We find ghosts  
And we find spirits  
But tonight I will not hear it  
I wonder what you would read  
If we’d a child in our reach.

Would we pass on our love?  
Our adventure?  
Throw caution to the wind, as we venture?  
Or would we warn  
Of the dangers  
That can hide inside us all

Would they laugh?  
Would they cry?  
Would they be up on cloud nine?  
Would they see you   
For what you are?  
The hero in shining armor,  
They’d try to draw?  
Would they see  
The real me  
The dragon you were fighting all along?

Would you see  
How twisted  
These tales are  
The sin they’ve listed  
Making evil to never change  
As the hero’s always reign

What if I want a change  
Change of face, time and place  
And be the hero of my own story  
Instead of damned to allegory.

I know that I am wicked.   
And I know that I can’t change

But for you, I will try

Gambling all

Snake eyes.

My happy ending comes after a fairytale more bitter than any in existence, Shane Madej


	13. M is for Miscalculation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ill probably proof read this again in the morning? thanks for bearing with me guys, you guys are great sports. I hope your holidays are happy, and not painfully hecking awkward. I'm doing my best to keep these posted.

December 21st,

I woke up this morning, again, with thoughts of Ryan.

This was getting ridiculous. And repetitive.

But there was something in my abstract thought that just forced the ideas of my warm bed in the morning, and Ryan’s warmth. And love.

I just couldn’t stop thinking about it, you know? Like, I closed my eyes and nestled in to daydream about him. His laugh just sounds amazing, and his eyes light up in such an animated way… Any time Ryan hugs him… asks for his attention. It’s too much. My head spins when I try to think about it all.

I eventually rub all the sleep and rose out of my eyes, and stand to prepare for the day.

I brew coffee, put on some soft jazz music on my phone, trying to not focus on how empty the house is. Ryan’s showed me how catastrophic that can get if you’re too in your head.

I was just about to call my uber for the day with no pants on because I figured it would take a moment for it to get there when suddenly there was a knock on my door.

I eyed the door, newspaper slackening in my hands. I didn’t think I had any packages, and I was in boxers… so if I pretended I wasn’t home they might leave.

Only… The door wasn’t locked, and The door opened.

I was on my feet in an instant. The only person who ever knocked and let themselves in was…

“Shane?”

“Ryan?”

And I knew I was fucked.

Ryan stood in the doorway, looking me up and down…

...in my boxers.

“Hey there buddy.”

And, thank every god that doesn’t exist in my mind… that I didn’t pull an immediate boner. At least I could… handle that.

“I uh… did you forget I was driving you to work?” Ryan asked. “You were not picking up your phone.”

Ryan appeared to not care about my appearance, and rather just looked tired. Which makes sense, Ryan’s seen me getting changed before… So in reality? Not the first time, but I was not prepared for this.

“Wait- oh shit! Sorry!” I tried to myself together. And he was right, I totally forgot about our carpool arrangement. “I’ll… throw some pants on.”

He smirked so softly at me, spinning his car keys around his finger absentmindedly, “You do that.” He beamed, as he turned his back to me, leaning his hand back on the rim of the dining room table, still watching me. And I feel my face growing warm again. Juvenile, I’m aware.

Either way, I ducked into my room, almost trembling from the sudden pressure of it, and freezing again at the sight of my own bed.

I could go back into the living room… take Ryan by the hand, drag him into bed, and hold him, just the way I kept dreaming of. He was sleepy, and wouldn’t put up much of a fight if any. It would be… so… easy.

But I knew a fantasy when I felt it.

So instead I rummaged for a pair of pants that wouldn’t clash atrociously with my red flannel and left as quickly as I could.

I came out to see Ryan still leaning against the edge of the table, but this time his keys were in his hands, stilled, and he was smiling fondly at the floor.

“Ready?” I asked him, which he snapped to attention.

“Yup!” Before waving for me to follow him.  
And I did.

The car ride went by in silence, as the radio dribbled on about some shitty politics. It’s all shitty politics these days… I can’t wait to get into 2018… get some new people in office. Love and tolerance more than hate and people being assholes…

... but who am I to talk?

We didn’t exchange words. We didn’t talk at all. We just rode in the silence of it all.

It wasn’t bad at all, far better than swinging an Uber.

He swung by a Starbucks drive-through, we have a problem, I think, And ordered his morning coffee, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was more enamored with watching A mightily breasted blue jay trying and failing to pull a worm out from the soil on the raised garden beside the car.

I wasn’t sure which one I related to more, the boastful bird that couldn’t do the one thing it was built to do, or the helpless worm who gave up trying to fight, even if it’s attacker was just as helpless, and the solution to their problem was simple.

Without even realizing it, Ryan was suddenly handing me something. A thin paper bag that crinkled with every motion, as he slid his coffee into the cup holder, and pulled out of the drive-through.

Ryan shrugged at me. “You looked like you didn’t eat this morning.”

And now that I thought about it? I hadn’t.

“How’d you know?”

“Best friend intuition. It’s your favorite.”

And I smiled, because I could already smell the chocolate croissant inside, and smiled as I saw the un-iced slice of a lemon loaf in wrapping on the dashboard that Ryan also grabbed. Whenever we went to Starbucks together we split a piece. It’s amazing stuff, but too rich to eat one on your own.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

And I smiled all over again, seeing the blue jay flutter past us, over us, waiting for our space so we could merge onto the freeway. The Jay didn’t have his worm, but he was smart enough to back away, and that was a start at least.

“So… We get to film for unsolved today!” I said, and I really was excited about it.

“Hell yeah! I think you’ll dig this one. Gritty but not too gritty, mysterious… Fun one.”

“Who died?”

“You’ll see.”

I just nodded and stared out of the window again. I sure would.

Ryan was humming along to the radio, like a nerd, having changed from bad news to some overplayed Christmas song, but he didn’t care.

It was a few more minutes before we got to headquarters, and It was great. Just… a silence with Ryan? That was never something I felt good about. I always felt a need to fill the silence or space with something, or else I was letting them down in some way or another, but it was far different with Ryan.

Regardless, walking up the concrete steps wasn’t something that phased me. Not anymore. Not by a Longshot.

Once we got to our Unsolved filming space, I was tucked in and ready to go… and that’s where my memory starts to fall off.

When we film for Unsolved, I try to live and stay in the moment. I feel like I’m less myself that way, therefore funnier, and more likable. It also helps me from feeling bad about being a jackass, though I do feel very sorry afterward…

So… I can’t really recount everything that was said. All that I really remember is that at one point, I pretended to cry, and Ryan mockingly patted my back.

I can tell you what the episode was about because Ryan always tries to read the pre-recorded script to me in goofy voices. The scene he presents the case though voice-overs in the sound booth, and just reads aloud his script to me in real time, and cuts it out, I always do listen. It’s kinda fun, being able to hear that version of the story from Ryan… and being the only person on the face of the earth who gets to… It is kind of nice.

A woman named Pauline Martz, in like… 1990, was left in her burning home after being bound and gagged by someone who had broken in. A man named Johnny Lee Wilson (most boring ass name ever, right?) would be imprisoned for her murder after confessing, but was pardoned later (again, extortion for a killer? Really dude?). Another man, Chris Brownfield, also confessed to the crime with an accomplice.

Which, is fucking weird.

We finished the shoot and headed down to the editing set.

I was feeling oddly timid and didn’t ask Ryan to hang out after work, and he didn’t ask either, so I took the chance.

I needed this afternoon to myself anyways. Go for a walk, reflect a little bit, cool down…

I could really go for that.

 

SPOTD:

Are you the bird or the worm?  
The dog or the cat?  
The cat or the mouse?

Ryan… are you the one that bound me here?

Did you tie me up, tie me to these feelings  
Before setting the whole place on fire?

I couldn’t call for help. I was tied, and it was too late to escape.

My lungs still burn with smoke and residue.

There are so many things I want to say  
But I can’t speak  
And If I could, my voice might only stoke the flames to swallow me alive

Ryan, maybe you’re the dragon for me to fight  
The Christmas devil in the night

Maybe I have this backward.

Maybe you tied me up, got away burning me down,  
With a closed case,  
Because Shane Madej wasn’t important anyways.

Leaving him to die was a better option.

Leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave himleave him leave him leave him leave him I̧͘͢͠"̷̢M̶̷͞͞͝ ̨͜S͟͢͡O̷҉̵҉͏ ͠Ą̸L̶͜͞҉Ơ҉͠N̕E̕͏̷ leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave himleave him leave him leave him leave him leave himleave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him ~~love him~~ leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him leave him for dead.

Or maybe… I was the one who bound myself.

I was attached to this house.  
This love.  
Homesickness. Lovesickness.

I attached myself. I put the gag down my throat and swore myself to secrecy.

Maybe I wanted to burn. Feel like I deserve to burn,

And I’m just too weak to admit it.

So who is it Ryan, me or you?

Who left me to burn that night?

Who is the bird?

And who is the worm?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
And why aren't you burning with me?


	14. N is for Nightmareish

December 22nd,

It was a weird night last night. A good night… but strange.

I was woken up by A loud an ominous bursting of music from my bedside table. I jolted awake, head ripping up from the pillow as I recognized the jaws theme song blearing from my phone, and knowing who’s ringtone it was, I scrambled over myself in my sleepiness to grab at it.

“Ryan? Hello?” I asked, only then glancing over to my alarm clock. It was 3:24 am.

“Oh! Oh thank god, you’re awake… you didn’t respond to my texts.”

“Dude… it’s like. The dead middle of the damn night. Course I wasn’t answering… what are you, crazy?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Ryan sounded filtered and shaken on the other side.

“It’s cool… what do you need?”

I heard a huge sigh go though the phone.

“Well, I just- … uh… oh god- sorry… … this… … … this is so dumb.”

“What do you want, Ryan?”

“Well… I just… I had a really spooky nightmare… and I mean. There’s nobody. Nobody else I can go too… I mean.”

“So you call me at three thirty in the morning?”

“I said I was sorry!”

“No, no… I’m just giving you a hard time, that’s all… You uh… why’d you wanna call me?”

Ryan mumbled something almost unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“I uh… … oh god… … do you… really wanna know…?”

“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

“I uh… oh… um… … I wanted to make sure you were…. Safe.”

And I sat up a little bit in bed. “Safe?”

  
“Well- yeah! It was… look… you know what I’m saying.”

“Wait- you had a dream in where I wasn’t safe?”

“Yes! Shane! God… way to rub it in…”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Ryan huffed again and paused for a rich moment.

“I’m glad. … uh… you know. … … that you’re safe.”

And that… warmed my heart. “I’m glad you’re safe to Ryan… can’t have anything happen to your stupid idiot face.”

“You have a stupid idiot face!”

“Well, you’re my stupid, idiot face. So whatever.” I threw out there. I don’t know what it was about it, but whenever I was tired or deprived me just… got so much braver.

“Fuck you too…”

  
And there was another quiet, but I knew Ryan was smiling. I was almost certain about it.

“Do you want to talk it out? This shitty dream?”

“What for?”

“So you can get it out of your system… So I can analyze it.”

“You could?”

“I mean… I could try. You seem to forget I majored in phycology… dream science and analysis was always a treat. It’s just the subconscious way of trying to tell you things that you’re a little too think to understand.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry, but… your other minors? I heavily question. At least you have phycology.”

“Art history was great, and journalism is a helpful profession!”

“How do you use it- do you remember all of your daily conversations then write them down for nobody to read?”

And ouch… that one… that one hurt.

“Hell no- I’ve suffered your bullshit, nobody else should have too.”

“That’s fair.”

“Hey! Ryan, no! You’re not allowed to make fun of yourself. Only I’m allowed to do that.”

“Whatever. And I think I’ll pass… It’s… the dream was really dumb anyway. Like, it was a stupid dream… but seeing you die… it felt so real?”

  
“Wait- I fucking died?”

  
“Uh… yeah?”

“Ryan, are you sure your subconscious doesn’t want me dead? Am I going to need to sleep with a gun?”

  
“What? No! I was trying to save you and you died anyway! It was scary as fuck! I woke up crying, fuck you!”

“Seriously… we should talk it though.”

“No, because you're going to laugh at me or some shit.”

“Did it have ghosts in it?”

“No?”

  
“Then why would I laugh at you? Dreams always sound dumb out loud, I’ll take it into account. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I’ll wear A sign around my neck for a day that says ghosts are real if I laugh at you, how’s that?”

“You see, now I actually believe you.”

“Thought so… so just… let’s do it.”

“Okay… If you say so.”

“I keep my word, little guy.”

“Shut up.”

And Ryan kept stumbling over words. Over himself. I could almost taste his embarrassment. It was practically palpable.

Either way, after about half an hour, I pestered the dream out of him. And he described to me, in such great detail this dream he had. All of it, start to finish. How We were up for a sacrifice in ancient Rome. (he said don’t ask him why) For a classic gladiatorial fight… only, there was a catch.

We were sorted into pairs, and one person had to spin some gambling wheel, and the wheel had both advantages and disadvantages.

He told me how we were to fight the wolves together, fight for our lives. And how he felt safer with me, and how I stepped up for him, to spin the wheel. Telling him that his life was worth more and that when we made it out alive, I didn’t want him to live with any unfortunate consequences.

So supposedly, I spun the wheel and landed myself permanent blindness.

I apparently cried, and hugged him, as some gauds performed some sort of spell, and when I stepped away... I couldn’t see him anymore.

After that, we were in the ring, with six rugged wolves, with yellow teeth and blood-orange eyes, grey fur matted with blood, prowling, surrounding us.

He says that he remembers feeling responsible for me. Only, when the fight started, he jumped behind me on instinct. And it was his fault that I was raked in the face with deep claws.

Ryan was breathing fast, just telling me the dream, and I had to really tell him to relax, as I hastily put him on speaker phone, pulled open my memo app and started jotting down notes of this dream, to try and analyze it later.

“Shane… I didn’t know what to do… It was dragging you away, you … you were dying so slow- you were bleeding and- oh god… Shane… I’m so sorry.”

  
“Ryan… calm down. It wasn’t even real. It’s okay. You’ve never failed me. I’m okay…”

“But Shane… I tried to reach out for you, to grab your hand, but the wolf already had you. I couldn’t reach you, and all I could hear was… was… you were cursing me. Telling me… that I was a coward… and you were right-”

“Ryan! Calm down… breathe man. It was just a dream.’

I know, I know! It just… god. It felt so real! It was so… so awful… and then the wolves all just… ganged up on you. They never killed me. And I couldn’t close my eyes… Shane, I watched them rip you shred by shred. There was so much blood. And you were screaming, and I just cried. And cried… And… once there was none of you left… I heard your voice again, damning me to hell… and then… I woke up…”

And that’s all I ever got about it.

I didn’t press any further, because of god, I thought only ghosts could get Ryan that on edge, and I knew he was genuinely terrified but at the same time… I knew he was holding secrets from me. There was something that he wasn’t telling me. I just knew it.

Either way… It was already four thirty and we had to wake up at six… and I could tell from the sound of Ryan’s voice that he wasn’t going to sleep any more that night… So I hit up a different conversation. A string that leads to him explaining Basketball to me. And then about the most recent bucket of research, He’d ben doing, and he begrudgingly listened to my speech about the next plans for the Hot Daga, that he pretended to hate.

It was almost like a blink, but before I knew it… It was five thirty. And I was tired as fuck, but the night wouldn’t extend for me.

“Yo man…” Ryan said, reading my mind. “Can we just get ready for work now… I’ll come grab you, and we get our asses knocked sideways by some triple shot americano coffees?”

“That’s what I dig about you Ryan. You get me.” I smiled into the receiver. “Sure thing.”

“Okay… See you in like… thirty minutes sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

And it was. I hung up the phone and looked. The call had lasted for two hours, forty minutes and four seconds.

Ryan picked me up, and coffee was good. We just bounced back and forth, trying to find good news among the bad in the papers, and in our lives, and I finally got around to organizing Christmas with my parents and Finn… and Ryan.

It was going to be great.

Or a wreck. Could’ve been either.

Getting to work was everything started to slow down for the day. Ryan was working on editing, and wasn’t talking… but after last night, couldn’t shake the feeling that something different was happening between us. It had to have.

So… as a surprise… I ordered some Chinese takeout for Ryan and me. And the look on his face when I handed it over was priceless, Smiling, eyes sparkling.

“Thanks for trusting me with that dream last night I told him.”

“Thanks for picking up at three in the morning. And for lunch.” He smiled back, it was nice.

Only, nothing gold can stay. And I knew that all I was doing was stoking the fire that would burn me alive.

But it was so warm, so inviting… whispering of treasure.

SPOTD:

It’s all a dream anyways  
Love, my love, your love,  
Our love  
A dream  
A fantasy  
An unreachable goal  
Idealistic,   
Dreamers.  
But that’s okay.  
I don’t mind anymore.

I’ve already been thrown to the wolves,  
They’re already feasting upon me  
Ripping away every bad thing.

They rip away the skin  
The anxiety  
The Flesh  
The hate  
The blood  
The destructive feelings  
The bones  
My guilt and shame

Until only my heart and eyes remained.  
I threw it all away on a gamble for you.

Both empty, hollowed out by you,   
My dreams colliding with yours  
Empty, without match  
Ripped in half  
You won’t love me  
You just dwell on the past

But that’s alright.

The wolves aren’t pure enough   
To touch those.

So I leave behind the three parts of me  
That even deserved you  
My eyes, hollow, but there to observe you  
Even if they couldn't  
I pretended that I could see you  
But now they’re as empty... And missing as the rest of me

And my heart  
Aching and bleeding for you  
In the middle of an open arena  
Millions of people  
Screaming in their ancient tongue for the wolves to devour it  
But not even hellhounds could stomach my love for you

But it lays, still beating, marching on for you in a pool of my own skin, anxiety, flesh, hate, blood, destructiveness, bones and guilt.

And my eyes lay gaunt and dead… because you know what those ancient Romans used to say

Love makes you blind.

-I can’t see the end of the pit that I fell in for you  
-Shane Madej


	15. O is for Overreach

December 23rd,

I love the holiday season. I promise you that I do… I just…

Good god, if you thought that not being able to talk to people was were my social inhabitations started to cut off, you’Ve got another thing coming, let me tell you.

No work today, thank god. Because I had more than enough problems to deal with without having to worry about that kind of thing.

Namely... What the fuck do I get Ryan for Christmas… and how does wrapping work?

I gotta be honest… I can’t wrap for shit. I’ve tried, but all the tape gets sloppy as fuck and I never measure the right amount of paper, and the edges always look all shitty.

This year would mark the third year in a row of just buying vulgar amounts of tissue paper, and taping it all together around the gift over and over until you can’t see the damn box and slapping a sticky, plastic bow on it, and hoping it doesn’t tear in the bag.

Well… it would’ve… had Ryan not been coming over.

But now? I couldn’t back down, Ryan was my sworn frienemy… and I wasn’t showing any weaknesses of lack of patience or hand-eye coordination… not this Christmas…

So I bought roll after roll of wrapping paper and looked up way too many Pintrest and youtube tutorials about making the most extra wrapping fucking possible. Ryan was going to be impressed with me, goddamnit.

I mean… It’s not like I care or anything.

…

I’m not sure why I’m still writing shit like that down. Any idiot reading this (fuck you, if you’re out there) can see it’s a lie. And it’s not cementing the lie in my own mind any further…

It makes me feel better to write it though, so fuck you.

I hate Ryan Bergara. He’s my best friend though… so… Bleh.

Either way… I was pretty sure that the Target employees were just. Waiting for me to shoplift something. And to be fair. I didn’t blame them.

Knowing I was there at one in the morning.

That’s something you should know about me. When I can afford to, I’ll stay up all night, and sleep in until noon. It’s simply my preferred way of doing things. But that might just be me…

Either way… the only people in that whole damn 24-hour Target was me, and some bulky… heavy set thirty-year-old man wearing a ‘Make America Great Again’ hat…

Oh… the night crowd…

I tried to avoid his eyes... because only God knew what the fuck he was doing there.

He was digging through the shelves of kraft mac and cheese and muttering under his breath… and… I was ninety percent sure he was either high, plain ol’ insane in the brain, or drunk.

And I just strolled up the isles, back and forth, at one in the morning, trying to find something to give to Ryan. I debated beer… or coffee, but I wanted something he could keep.

I debated clothes, but I felt that might be a tad weird… and I knew he didn’t like to wear watches the same way I did… (I’m old-fashioned… I know.)

And where did that leave me?

I knew he had every sports video game the guy could ever need… I learned in a game of never have I ever a few months ago that he’s never learned to ride a bike…

And I thought shopping for my brother was hard.

And I thought… and I thought.

What was something material… that could be useful, sentimental, and reflect the passions that he and I share? Something that really symbolizes our relationship?

Only then did an idea really hit me.

And thankfully… I was already thinking about going for a drive. I loved to see all the Christmas lights.

I swung a turn, and headed back to the beer and chocolate isles, because I was determined to knock Ryan’s socks off… and I pulled out my phone.

It was a kind of specific search to be entering into craigslist… (Craigslist, the home of last minute Christmas gifts, am I right?)

And as I typed in ‘ghost hunting’ into the craigslist search bar, I held my breath…

...there was nothing even remotely in the area.

However… there was hope.

Two hours out, there was a chick selling a hardly used infrared puck light, which I think I’ve heard Ryan talking about before, and a three hundred and sixty-degree ghost camera. In very fine condition, and as I squinted at my phone in that Target, it looked like a winner. I’d get there at three am, and She’d probably be pissed at me for coming at such a weird and shitty hour… but the reason I was pacing this Target was that I was anxious about finding Ryan the perfect gift, and I wasn’t resting and sleeping a wink until I had one.

I think Ryan isn’t good for my health.

But it didn’t matter because I clicked on the woman’s profile, and found her number. I decided I would wake her up about an hour before I got there.

I mean… two hours would be shitty, right?

The pack was a whole three hundred and fifty dollars, but sometimes that’s the price you had to pay for love. It made sense… in context at least.

I picked out Ryan’s favorite brand of IPA beer and a fancy looking box of chocolates… I know it was a risk, but it was one in the morning, and he really did like his chocolate… so I hope It’ll slide.

I checked out, and the employee looked gaunt, dead, and weary of me, and I tried to put on my most harmless looking smile. Though, if I had indeed stolen something.. I probably would’ve been trying to the same so… uh…

What else could I have done?

So I got into my car, took a deep breath, and slid in the most recent Gorillaz album… Ryan got me hooked on the band, funky and cool and settled in for a two-hour ride on the dead California streets.

I wasn’t that bad, actually. Halfway there I stopped at a McDonalds for some french fries and called the woman up. She wasn’t as grumpy about it as I thought she would be, on the contrary she was quite agreeable.

She gave me shortbread cookie as thanks for getting the machinery out of her home, before handing it over in a cardboard box.

I thanked her, and she told me to drive safe. I will admit, the cookie was pretty good.

Byt he time I finally got home… it was five in the morning, and I was ready to sink into my bed and die.

I carefully set the ghost hunting gadgets on my table, before firing off a fast text to my brother.

“You hear that Ryan’s coming over for Christmas? Please… Don’t embarrass me. Love you.”

  
And I lay down and fell asleep for a very long while.

It was actually eleven am when I woke up, coming around to consciousness. I’d slept in my clothes, of course… and Finn had responded.

“No promises… isn’t the point of having a crush on somebody being able to be open?”

And I flinched. Finn already figured it out?

  
Damn it… We’d gone to Disney land once. ONCE. ANd he already knew?

Fuck…

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

And the response was instant. It was too early for this shit.

“Come on Shane. I’ve seen you look at guys in a longing way, but nothing like Ryan before. You act surprised that I can tell? Dude… you stare at him like he’s the answer to life.”

“No… that would be 42.”

“Shitty references won’t save you now…”

“Shut up. Do mom and dad know?”

“I haven't told them… but after watching Unsolved episodes? Uh… I think mom’s catching on.”

“Shit.”

“Dad thinks she’s crazy but, and I quote… ‘Mark, our baby boy is in love with that Ryan boy. We must support him! He’s so cute!’...”

“Shit- that bad?”

“Verbatim.”

“Fuck.”

“Did you get him gifts?”

“I did, last night.”

“Where at?”

“At a target at one am and off a lady on craigslist five cities away at three am.”

“Good god… Ad your older brother Shane? I want you to be reminded that I worry about you.”

“It was fine. I got some cookies!”

“You can’t fix everything with cookies, Shane.”

“I fixed Ryan with cookies in the London tombs… he nearly cried, I brought cookies with me for when he came out…”

“Stop talking about Ryan.”

“Shut up!”

And that's about where the conversation ended off…

I had one day to make the perfect most amazing wrapping job ever for all these gifts… and that’s probably all I could affor to do for the day.

So, I texted Ryan really fast, just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything huge.

“Hey man… I just went… got you some holiday gifts… don’t know if you had anything particular on your mind though?”

And I rolled over, scrolling though social media for a moment mindlessly.

“Dude! You don’t need to do that… I’m just happy hanging with you and your family.”

“Okay, so If I give you the shittiest gift ever, you can’t complain.”

“I wouldn’t!!! Speaking of… I need some help… what do you want for Christmas? And like… what can I get for your family?”

“Dude… I trust you to get me something I’ll use. I don’t really care. Whatever you think. My mom chugs wine like nobody’s business… my dad’s probably good with a new book… and my brother…? I… have no idea. Like… something generic? Headphones? Amazon gift card? He’s kinda a blank slate dude. Has everything he needs.”

“Okay… you sure you don’t have any bones to throw me for yourself?”

“Yup.”

“Okay… then. Have a good Shane! Text me if you need anything!”

And as it turns out…

The wrapping did not go well.

I only wrapped Ryan’s gifts, having to redo them, over and over again… wrestling with the paper that always tears.

Goddamnit...

SPOTD:

I am drained  
Aging  
Weak  
Slow

I’m not getting any younger

But you  
Youthful  
Lively  
Loving

Turn the rain into puddles to splash in  
Turn the grime into play-dough  
Turn dread into anticipation  
And fear into excitement.

We are fairytale characters  
You are a princess  
And I’m a cold-hearted dragon  
Or the Grinch

But I need you more than ever

And here you are.

Childish  
Happily bouncing  
In and out, up and over  
Looping around other people  
Don't flinch when they try to snuff you out,

You are my sunshine  
Outshining the rest  
Under and over every shadow and ghost

Are you listening?  
Really hearing me?  
Ears working?

Because if only you could see  
Yourself the way I do.

 


	16. P is for Paranoia

December 24th,

It’s Christmas Eve…

Oh… boy…

Ryan comes to grab me at my house, which was nice, I’ll admit, but nothing really noteworthy happened that morning.

Only… I was scrawling poems on scratch paper when I thought Ryan wasn’t looking. Just… I wanted to write away my stress. Because I still had a ton of presents to wrap, and Ryan would be coming back with me to my parents’ house tomorrow. Dear god, if that didn’t stress me out…

So I wrote. I wrote a few poems. I copied them back here:

**_The astronaut:_ **

**_It’s an open tumbling feeling_ **   
**_Were the world feels like a universe_ **   
**_But it’s only a part of it_ **   
**_And all you can do is hold your breath_ **   
**_As the cold nothingness chokes you_ **   
**_Only_ **   
**_The view is amazing_ **   
**_The things you can see_ **   
**_But never have_ **   
**_Makes it worth it_ **   
**_Until you become a part_ **   
**_Of the nothing two_ **   
**_In a hospital bed_ **   
**_At the age of ninety-two._ **

**_Shane Madej_ **

  
**_A SCIENTIST:_ **

**_I turn and turn,_ **   
**_Drawing circles around myself_ **   
**_Chasing my thoughts_ **   
_**They slip out of my fingertips** _   
_**Emotions are a mystery** _   
_**Something not tangable** _   
**_Yet control us in every way_ **   
**_Incalculable_ **   
**_A scientists’ worst nightmare._ **

**_Shane Madej_ **

  
**_Star Scat:_ **

**_There’s a hum of an olden stereo_ **   
**_The knob turns under your fingers_ **   
**_Audio is scratchy_ **   
**_A static you never hear anymore_ **   
**_Light jazz floats in the room_ **   
**_Clapping hands drown out the bassline that isn’t there_ **   
**_Freeform_ **   
**_I spin you in circles_ **   
**_In a sepia crowd_ **   
**_Nostalgia is kind_ **   
**_Even if I never lived it_ **   
**_A jazz room_ **   
**_A dance floor_ **   
**_The smell of cigars_ **   
**_Moonshine alcohol_ **

**_There’s an atmosphere to it_ **   
**_It makes me want to pour you a drink_ **   
**_And tell you all about the past_ **   
**_Go rob a bank with an olden revolver_ **   
**_With you_ **   
**_Bonnie and Clyde_ **   
**_Spinning around me, you’re smiling_ **   
**_And I know that we were born ahead of our time_ **   
**_But our love is old-fashioned_ **   
**_And we were doomed to fail from the start_ **   
**_Shot by the bankers_ **   
**_Never making that getaway._ **

**_-Shane Madej_ **

  
That was all the poems I wrote. I don’t know why They just… happened.

It was about lunch when Ryan leaned over at me and tapped the edge of the page.

“That is amazing, Shane. You’re so talented…” And all I knew was that chilled me to the very bone.

“You think so?”

“Yeah! Of course!”

“Huh.”

And maybe he was right, and my poetry had been improving. Or maybe he was just being nice…

But I wondered how many shitty scrawled poems he’d also seen without my knowing. And…

Had he figured out that all my love poems were for him…

Fuck.

We’d made small talk over our lunch break, Ryan confirming all of his gifts for my family, which he went overboard with, and me mostly complaining about all the wrapping I still had to do.

He empathized, though he had wrapping down to an art form. Trust me, I’d gotten gifts from Ryan before, every corner was folded perfectly, and every bow perfectly aligned. All the stickers and tags had all the names in legible handwriting, loopy too.

So by the time I got home, to an empty sad house, I think Ryan could feel it.

  
He was frowning at me as he wished me a goodnight, dropping me off.

I told him that it was fine, I’d do my best, but I was getting tired of other people fast.

That happens when I get stressed out. I become a reclusive asshole.

… So like normal me, just fuckin’ worse.

Either way, I’d been struggling with this damn wrapping paper for two hours; at this point, I’m convinced I’m the dumbest motherfucker on the planet. My fingers were sticky with failing tape adhesive. And everything else had gone to shit.

It was honestly so shitty I was almost in tears of frustration. Could I really not do anything? This was so fucking simple, yet I somehow failed it in every fucking way.

I had a headache, still, do as I write this, so it’s gonna be fast.

The doorbell rang as I tore the paper on my mom's gift for the fifth time in a row.

I grumbled, and Took a moment, before standing up to grab it.

But when I opened the door… there was nobody there, only a white steaming Starbucks cup and a note.

**_Thought you may need a hot chocolate!_ **   
**_Can’t stop to talk, sorry!_ **   
**_Good Luck with the wrapping!_ **   
**_From: Ryan ♡_ **

And I picked it up. It was warm in my hands before I peered into the darkness. I saw Ryan in his car, pulling out of his parking spot, waving at me, with a smile.

I waved at him back, weakly. Because holy shit?

That… this was the cutest, sweetest, most precious thing anybody’s ever done for me.

It was so perfect. So good. So pure.

He drove away, and I just stood there on my front steps, watching him go, like an idiot.

And I went inside, texting him a thank you, and Finally getting all my wrapping finished up.

What a day, Christmas Eve.

  
**_SPOTD:_ **

**_It used to be something that made me lose sleep_ **   
**_You_ **   
**_And Christmas_ **

**_But now it makes me tired_ **   
**_The kind of tired that has nothing to do with sleep_ **   
**_And everything to do with the people around me_ **   
**_Instead of gifts_ **   
**_It was love_ **   
**_And now I sink into bed_ **   
**_And the sandman taps my eyelids_ **

**_In the morning I’m warmer then I was,_ **

**_Thank you for being my Sandman._ **


	17. Q is for Questionable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW THIS IS A DAY LATE! MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU GUYS! IM DOING MY BEST!

  
December 25th,

It's about noon when Ryan comes to pick me up at my house.

“Merry Christmas!” Ryan smiled brightly at him, once I open the door for him. He wraps me up, holding me close.

“Merry Christmas to you too!” I tell him, and he has a boyish wonder in his eyes.

Ryan’s fidgeting with his hands, clearly nervous, as I guided a huge pile of wrapped gifts out to Ryan’s car. Ryan’s gifts are all in one little bag.

“I have the address, right?” Ryan asked, pointing to his car’s map.

And I looked at it carefully. “Yup. That’s the place.” I confirmed, after seeing it was my parent's address. This… this was a huge gamble.

Why… why did I think this was a good idea?

Then I looked over, and Say Ryan’s excited and nervous smile, and I remembered.

He was too perfect, to fun and joyous to abandon on a holiday like this.

“Alright, let’s go!” He cheered. “I just… god Shane, thank you so much for having me. Really beats celebrating it alone.”

  
“Yeah, sure thing,” I tell him, and we set on our way.

By the time we arrive I know there will be cookies… Mom and Dad will probably fawn over Ryan…

And Finn?

  
Finn… Finn knows.

Finn already knew… I should've seen it coming. He’s my older brother. But truly? For him to pick up so fast? On our Disney trip, I must’ve been giving away too many clues. I mean… Ryan’s a scaredy cat, and… I mean, I did hold his hand? And bought him some sodas? And was very giving?

  
Oh god…

Even as I stared out the car window as Ryan pulled out onto the street corner, car ablaze with life under our feet, I felt myself get embarrassed. Was I really so predictable? Being… caring about Ryan just seemed to be in my nature, implemented into my DNA at this point… and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t put the feeling into words.

That feeling… it suddenly sparked an idea in me, and I pulled my phone and opened up a memo pad:

**That Feeling**

**There’s a certain feeling**   
**Something that pounds in my chest**   
**Yet rolls gently over my head like a wave**   
**Yet starts from the ground up**   
**Yet drips into me like sweet honey**

**It’s something I can’t describe**  
 **Other then ‘** the you **feeling’**  
 **Only you give it to me**  
 **And It’s a drug**  
 **The sweetest, most intoxicating medication ever known**

 **It makes me see things**  
 **Dream things**  
 **That** aren't **there**  
 **And don’t exist**

 **It makes me cross my fingers**  
 **And watch more close then any bird**  
 **It’s electric**  
 **Yet so subtle**  
 **It’s the way you kick your feet up on your desk on lunch break**  
 **Or the way you chew your lips incessantly**  
 **It’s the way your broken glasses always tilt to the left**  
 **Or how you never pick up your pencil when you’re writing fast**  
 **It’s everything about you**  
The you **feeling.**

**This feeling of knowing you**   
**Better then I know myself**   
**Toe and toe**   
**Partners in crime**   
**Complete harmony**   
**Throttled with discord**   
**Both together.**

**You and me.**

**Both together.**

The we **feeling.**

Looking it over, once, twice, I wondered if Ryan might like it…

It seemed a little over the top… and a little too love poem-esc, but… I had to let him know sooner or later, or else… I was fucked, you know?

Either way, it was only a forty minute drive to my parents’ home. That with it being Christmas, there was nobody out on the road. And I’d like to say that I and Ryan had exciting banter, but really he just hummed along to the radio, and I scrolled through the Buzzfeed Unsolved subreddit for a while.

Either way, it was in the blink of an eye that we pulled up. I’d gotten some comments for a post-mortem that we’d film when we got off break tomorrow. The schedule was being thrown everywhere with the holiday season.

“Alright! Oh.. okay. What should I say? Shane, oh god… fuck. I’m nervous. Panicking. Goddamnit.”

“My family isn’t ghosts, Ryan.”

“I know! But I want them to like… not hate me.”

“Ryan… My family couldn’t hate you if they tried. They’re kind of gullible and sappy like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please… They are going to love you. Finn adores you, and my parents watch unsolved. They know who you are.”

“Oh… so they all think I’m some kind of conspiracy crack head?”

“No! My mom is a Boogara.”

  
“You’re shitting me.”

  
“... I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

  
“No… Probably not.”

And I was about to sigh, and make some sort snide remark until I remembered that I hadn’t said anything about yesterday to Ryan at all.

“Oh! Ryan… I forgot to thank you. For yesterday? The cocoa? That was really sweet of you. Thank you.”

“Huh? OH! Oh yeah! Of course… I just… you sounded pretty frustrated at work tomorrow, and I was passing through anyways… THought I might as well.”

“No, I really needed it.”

“Well, what are friends for?” He asked, with a smile, and the words took away mine. “Friends.”

  
Oof.

Either way, we got out of the car, and walked up the driveway, and knocked on the door.

It took a moment, but I heard my mom’s voice chirping in excitement as she moved to open the door.

She cracked the door open and smiled wide at the sight of us. Me, with my presents in hand, and Ryan with his smaller bag.

Almost sensing Ryan’s fear, she stepped up and hugged him first.

“Ryan! It’s so nice to see you! It’s been too long, you haven't forgotten me yet, have you?”

  
“Of course not,” Ryan said, and already he looked more together. My mother seems to have that effect on people.

She grabs a hold of me next, of course. “So good to see you!” She tells me. And It’s true. I can see Finn behind her, and dad on the couch, watching it all happen.

Mom lets us inside, and it’s just…

Well, home is where the heart is, and this is one of mine.  
  
I’m… not sure if I have two or three homes. One here, one with myself, and maybe one with Ryan.

 

 

Anyway, Finn’s the next one in line for hugs, and He’s whispering something in Ryan's ear when he hugs him. Finn’s not much of a hugger, but all I heard was Ryan’s response:

“Whatever you say, mountain man.”

Finn grabbed me next.

“Good luck man. Merry Christmas” He told me quietly.

“Eat shit, Finn.” was my poetic response.

Finally, I stepped back, to see my dad standing there too. “Hey, Shane!” He said, with a hearty smile and wave.

“We have our late lunch ready… in about thirty minutes.” Mom told us. “But the cherry bread got out a few minutes ago, and is probably cool by now… if you want a slice, Ryan?”

Ryan smiled, following my lead in placing the bags on the coffee table by the entryway.

“Yes please!”

  
“I hope so,” Dad told him. “As Shane’s dad, it’s our obligation to fatten every friend of his up… lord knows he’s not making you any homecooked meals.”

“Dad!” I cry in protest, but really… he was right. But he just laughed.

“I mean… Shane, When I forgot my lunch… you got Subway, every time we hang out we get Chipotle or panda express…”

“Not helping, tiny guy.” I tell him, but I can see Finn’s eyebrows raise at the whole ‘when I forget my lunch, you bring me food’ thing.

“I know it’s been hard without Sarah coming here for the holidays so we wanted to stay in California this year, instead of the family in Chicago… and Ryan, I’m so glad you could make it.” That was mom… always bringing up a too thinly sugar coated truth.

“Thank you so much for having me,” Ryan admitted. “My family all ran away last minute.”

“That’s shitty man…” Finn told him, sitting down at the dining room table, which was set meticulously and with care. “Well, You’re always welcome here… you’re an honorary Madej.”

“Thanks…”

And Ryan’s smile was gold to me.

Mom served us up some cherry bread, her specialty, and sat up down.

Finn went on to work for a bit, and Dad talked a lot about his job as a journalist. Ryan happily listened, throwing his intelligent two bits into the conversation, making quite the positive impression on everybody.

It was hypnotic to watch Ryan at work like that. Baiting people over to him… maybe he was a princess or a warlock. Everybody just seemed to fawn over him, like he was the perfect person on the face of this earth. And I’ll admit.. Somedays, it feels like it. And that is a hard shadow to fall under for me. But he is flawed…

But most days, I can’t get past his smile and humor to even think about his flaws… so…

Guilty as charged.

I’ll admit, the time flew, and soon we had our steak dinner.

It all seemed to fly past, Ryan and Finn re-hitting it off, with conspiracy and sports. I could tell that mom adored Ryan with every fiber of her being. You could see it in her eyes, and my dad didn’t really feel much different.

I hadn’t even realized that I was hardly saying anything, and all I had been doing was staring at Ryan until We finished our lunch/dinner combo, and Ryan excused himself to the restroom.

Mom and dad moved to start cleaning the table because we had piles of pastries for later. Late lunch, no dinner, just desserts… that was my Christmas.

I and Finn went to sit on the couch together, just to kick back and chat.

We didn’t text and communicate as often as mot brothers did. We weren't the tightest now, but of course we still held memories, and we would always be family. But him and me? We were on different levels, you could say. I loved Finn, he was my rother, but we never connected the way idealistic siblings could.

“So… about Ryan… dude… you were… staring at him so much.” Finn said, staring at his feet. “Is subtle even in your blood?”

“This again? I don’t like Ryan! He’s just the coolest friend ever.”

Finn looked at me, and it was like he was staring out a window. “Uh-huh… and I suppose you blush and stare at all of your friends like they spun the webs of the universe just for you? Dude, I know we aren't the closest… but holy shit, you have it so far in for this guy. What the fuck.”

“Dude! Shut up! I do not!”

“Shane… don’t lie to me… like, whenever he enters your line of vision, your soul suddenly re-enters your body. It’s fucking weird.”

“Why are you doing this?”

  
“Well, you know… I just wanted you to know that you should… go for it. Ryan seems like a great guy, and you have a fair shot.”

“You… you think so?”

  
Finn smiled. “Yeah… Ryan’s a standup dude. Just go for it… it might go well… after Sarah… he might be just what you need.”

“You… I mean, you never cared for Sarah.”

“Oh- yeah. That.” Finn shrugged. “Sarah was a gem, I know. But there was somewhere in there where she couldn’t communicate… she didn’t help you like Ryan does, she was the same as you, and I feel like that really didn’t affect you well. Stay friends with her though.”

“I’m… trying.”

Finn punched my shoulder lightly. “That’s all you can do man. It’s all you can do.”

And Ryan joined us at that moment, plopping on the sofa next to me, followed by my parents.

It was another minutes of flaming talk of optimistic things, warm things. And I didn’t even notice the ice on the outside of the windows until Ryan pointed out the pretty patterns it was making as it froze over.

Soon, we pulled out gifts, and Ryan had gotten well-picked gift cards for everybody, I got a Starbucks one, with a cute card that read the following:

**To help fuel your coffee and tea addiction. Love you man! Merry Christmas!**   
**-Ryan**

It was so simple, but I didn’t want to let it go. It was kind of beautiful in that way. Itw as a simple store-bought car, the cover was a royal blue comic book style with a big speech bubble that said THIS IS FOR YOU! In all caps.

Tacky but… Ryan.

And good god, When I gave Ryan my gift, I wanted to bottle up his smile when he opened it.

“No way!” He’d cried. “You- Shane, this is going to be amazing!”

And he just jumped up to hug me, and god, if I didn’t melt on the spot.

I could feel Ryan’s heart beating through his shirt, pressed up against me, and I felt my toes clench as his arms wrapped around me tightly.

“I love it! Thank you so much!”

And… there’s not much else to be said. He embraced me like I was a god, looking like a hyperactive six-year-old boy opening up a star was figurine.

And after a round of cocoa, and cookies, a Chocolate swiss roll, and peppermint candies, a beer, and more laughter it was time for me and Ryan to head home.

The drive was nice, Ryan told me how much he liked my family, thanking me over and over again, like He owed it to me, I just reminded him that I was just lucky to have him, and that really, it was the least I could do to repay him for all the times he’s helped pull me up to my feet.

By the time we stopped in front of my house, I hopped out and held my breath. He got out to walk me to the door, and ddI reached into my coat pocket…

“Hey, Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

I suddenly felt like the ground was disintegrating under me, and I had to look down to ensure it was still there. “I wrote. I wrote something for you.”

And My hand flashed out, with the folded poem I’d written in the car earlier, I’d copied it down on a paper, and folded it up nicely.

The note on the front said:

To read when I become Too Much to Handle, from me to you.

“Is it a poem?” Ryan asked, inspecting the cover.

“It says not to open it until I piss you off!” I tell him.

“I know, I know, I just wanted to know.”

“Yes. It’s a poem. And a shitty one, but it’s important. Important to me, at least.”

And then he said the nicest thing I’ve heard in a long time:

“If it’s important to you, It’s important to me. We’re a package deal, aren't we?”

SPOTD:

**Family is to forgive**   
**And to thank**   
**To move together**   
**Think and thin**   
**Regardless of difference**

**Home is where the heart**   
**Family**   
**Friends**   
**And self**   
**Reside**

**A love is to sacrifice**   
**To be out and in control**   
**To be uncertain**   
**Yet jumping anyway**

**I give thanks today**   
**For my family**   
**My home**   
**My love**   
**And my angel.**

 


	18. R is for Reproach

 

December 26th, 

 

I’m starting to think that more of my life revolves around Ryan then I’d care to admit.

 

It’s becoming ridiculous. I just got back to work today, and I knew that I had a lot to get too. Editing, script writing, filming. I was behind on just about everything, and dear god, if that didn’t cause me to tremble in my own skin. 

 

I think it was in freshman health class in high school where I really learned something about myself. We were studying human habit and personality, and we started to learn about the three main personality types, and when I told my teacher I really wasn’t sure which I was, he looked at me funny for a moment and told me

 

‘Shane, I haven't met somebody as time sensitive as you in years. You’re a type A in denial my friend.’

 

And he was right. The pressure I feel, the stress that builds up like residue is almost hard to handle at times. No matter how constinely I am living under that pressure. 

 

And from that moment on, I lived my life with coffee running through my veins, with walls and books coated in outdated sticky notes with month-old to-do lists scrawled onto them in Sharpie.

 

I walked into work with Ryan a wreck. My thermos of coffee trembling in my hands. Nine in the morning, and I was already on my third fucking cup. 

 

Ryan sat beside me, and both of us had to hardwire knuckle down, which wasn’t Ideal. Not really, but it didn’t matter. 

 

Ryan was cheerful, still thanking me for yesterday, and even though half of our friends were still out, some chose to take boxing day off as well, he still talked my ears off over some sports conspiracies that I didn’t quite understand but wanted too. 

 

Another weird thing… I always wanted to level with Ryan in some way or another, but it never quite happened the way it did in my head. 

 

My daydreaming was setting me up for failure, wasn’t it?

 

Either way, as I got frustrated though the day, Ryan just kept… knowing it.

 

I kept catching him watching me, which was such a victory in itself… I didn’t really know what to do. 

 

His shy smile, as I pounded the desk in frustration as the words didn’t quite come to me as I sat down to write the best new script for Ruining History possible… It was…

 

Well frankly, it was pretty shitty, but Ryan being there almost made up for it.

 

However, I don’t know if even Romeo could make Juliet happy when writing doesn’t flow well. I’m not much of a writer, but sitting there, fingers hovering over your keyboard? Or when I write and log my days here, and a word simply just escapes me?

 

It’s really a thorn in your side.

 

And when you give up on it being the way you want it, it keeps bothering, knowing that the perfect way to phase something is just outside of your grasp.

 

It’s almost like writing all those poems for Ryan. 

 

There was a perfect on deep in there, but it never surfaced. Not really. 

 

The ones I’ve handed over to him… neither were quite right.    
  


I could tell you all about the poem I’d love to give RYan. It’s sophisticated, smart, meaningful. Rich with similes, but once I have the pencil in my hand, and Ryan in my head… it’s worthless.

 

And I’m not sure how I really breach that gap yet. 

 

Ryan dropped me off, with slight words of encouragement, and didn’t text me. 

 

And I realised… I’ve been putting up a face this whole time. 

 

I’ve been acting. Acting, being an over idealised version of me whenever Ryan is around. 

 

This whole time. The reason Ryan exhausts me… it’s my own damn fault.

 

My best friend doesn’t know me at all.

 

The door closed behind me, when that realisation really struck me. 

 

I’ve been lying to him. This whole time.

 

Even if he did like me…

 

… well, no, that isn’t even the problem. The real problem is…

 

Well the real problem doesn’t matter either.

 

It was the tension that gripped me like an icey wave. 

 

The repercussion, the equal and opposite reaction of all the good of yesterday suddenly came back to claim me.

 

I barely staggered to my own bed, before I suddenly snapped. 

 

I’m just a liar.

 

Nothing about this is right. 

 

It’s never been right. It never has been. Never will be.

 

And I cry. 

 

I cry. And cry. 

 

I clutch the blankets around me, but they aren't heavy. They don’t comfort me, or ground me, or warm me. 

 

SPOTD:

 

In the big tent circus

The pecking order Goes from the ringmaster

To the staff

To the acrobats

To the gymnasts

To the lion tamers

to the clowns

And to the freaks

 

But I’m the worst of them all.

 

I’m them all.

 

I’m a freak

A three-left-footed man in a cage

 

I walk the tightrope day after day, with no pole to balance me

The only thing that balances me has already reached the end

He is standing there laughing at me as I fall

 

The crew

I’m in control, only for everything to go wrong.

Everything and everyone is lost when you need them the most

 

I’m the acrobat, swinging through the uncertain air

Just waiting for the cold ground to rush up and meet me.

One slip of my own hands, and i drag them with me

 

I’m a contortionist

I bend myself and the truth

flexible

 

A lion-tamer

A whip snapping on me and others as everything crumbles around me

Until the creature of my own creation and taming devours me alive

In a pile of blood and sweat and tears and claws and the bitter nature of it all.

  
  


I am the clown

So very foolish

Failure for a lifetime

Expected

 

But most of all I am the magician.

The things to go right is up to dumb luck

And all i do is build a world that doesn’t exist

So when the magic goes away

There’s nothing to do

The illusionist

The only thing i can do is kill the rabbit in the hat in neglect

 

And who knew?

 

You don’t even find Magicians in Big top Tents.

 

Which makes me a freak above all the rest.


	19. S is for Scapegoat

December 27th,

I woke up, slightly fatigued this morning.

It took a moment before I remembered why I hadn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday. The dawning realization that nothing I could do would change the fact that everything Ryan thinks he knows about me is a complete lie?

But surely, it’s not so bad, right? There are some days that roll around where Ryan sees deeper and more clearly into my character than anybody else, or even I can.

And that… honestly, that seems a little self contradictory. In of itself, that is.

Either way, there’s no way in hell I can ever understand him if I’m grasping at straws to understand myself. It’s simply not how it works.

It took a fair amount of time, from the point I woke up, to the time Ryan was knocking at my door.

I sat and watched a couple of birds fighting over seed outside. I wasn’t a particularly outdoorsy person, but I did love watching the little birds wrestle in the morning. There was something so human about it, it just made sense to me.

I watch them, fighting over the sunlight in the morning… but never the shadow. The sunshine so desired, but the lasting patch of the night so frowned upon. It was just human nature.

It made my apple taste bitter, the more I thought about it.

Ryan eventually arrived, with a mile, and for once? I was glad that he wasn’t talking all that much. It was a quiet ride with us both, rare for the ghoul boys… but, I’d take it.

We arrived at the building, and this morning, walking up the tombstone stairs did stick out to me.

It was going to be a low swinging morning, I could tell now.

Either way, I somehow made it up on the steps and was imminently hit with the overwhelming presence of other people.

There was bustling, seeing as everybody was back from break today. Until new years that is… but don’t worry about it.

Suddenly, everything was too much. There were too many people. Too many things happening around me. Drowning in a sea of faces, of people, or things moving to get places.

Ryan looked at me like he was going to say something, but must’ve seen the apprehension in my eyes, because he closed his mouth without a word, and headed to his station.

I tried to be better about it. I knew I was being cranky, inside and outside of my head, and that was never a good thing, but it was a habit. There was too much noise and too many things to go wrong, and I just sat, simmering in the whole thing.

There was a feeling. Knowing, that, no matter what I did… I wasn’t myself. I tried to be authentic, but no matter what happened it wasn’t the same. It never was.

I tried to chase it out of my mind, but it didn’t matter if every thought was as powerless as a fly.

When there was a swarm of them, you ducked to make way.

I was trying my best to knuckle down and work. It was difficult, but It’s always difficult. I had to try, at least, until Jen caught me at lunch.

“Hey! Shane!” She called, waving me over, and well, who am I to deprive her of that?

  
So I sat beside her at her table, and she turned to me, a very knowing, devilish look in her eyes.

“Hey, what’s up?”

  
“What’s up? Shane, I’ve been looking for you all day, and holy shit… I have a plan. A great one.”

  
“Dear God…” Jen and her ‘plans’... this would be interesting.

“No! This is a good one! A great one!” She pitched, and already, she looked so enthralled and captivated by whatever idea she had… I don’t think I’d ever dissuaded her. I may as well look before I leap… or rather… was forcibly pushed off the damn edge.

“Okay… what is it?”

“Okay… okay okay, so close your eyes.”

“What?” Jen was a special one.

“I said close your eyes, idiot!”

“Okay! Okay!” And I did.

“Now imagine… a floor. Tiled and polished, with lights. Blue and green and red, purple, flashing lightly overhead. Full of people you already know. Mini fireworks lighting up a porch outside, yet still holding a holiday theme… Mistletoe over the doorways and you’re in the dancefloor. WIth nobody… just standing there with a cup of punch.”

“What is this- high school prom?”

“Shane! Close your eyes! Imagine it! Don’t play dumb, that’s how you end up at any party ever even if your thirty.”

“Touche.”

“Either way… suddenly, you feel a tapping on your shoulder… you turn around… and Ryan is there.”

“Fuckin’ what?”

  
“Roll with it, Bigfoot!” she snapped at me, and hey… This was Jen we were talking about.

“He’s in a nice suit and everything, also alone, and he shyly asks you for a dance. Of course, you accept…”

And already… Jen had me pinned.

“And you end up dancing… middle of the floor.”

“I thought I was holding a glass of punch?” I asked.

“Creative licence Shane, for fuck's sake!”

“Not cool. I wanted that fruit punch.”

“Shut up. And then… in all the madness… you look up and see… mistletoe above you.”

  
I opened my mouth to tell her that it’s already past Christmas, but the fucked up implications of this scenario she was proposing slapped me.

“And then…”

And Suddenly I stood up.

“Dear god, not you too?”

“What?” And she sounded confused.

“I don’t like Ryan! Fuck you!”

Jen suddenly found my issue with her little speech, and her face turned from one of surprise to a smug, stubborn smirk.

“Shane… do you honestly think you’re fooling anybody?”

“Fool?” But… she had a point. My brother knew from spending two days with both me and Ryan…

“Shane… we… I know. Eugene and Zach do as well… people know you. Something is different when it’s about Ryan. And in an overprotective way… Shane, we’re all on your side.”

  
But I was too frustrated to even listen to her.

“Shut up! You don’t- NO!”

“Woah! Shane- I- are you okay?!”

“No! Fuck you. Fuck this. I’m not allowed to have fucking friends without everybody making it all fucking weird! You’re no better than shipping Unsolved fans. Fuck you, Jen.”

And there was a genuine hurt that suddenly twisted her expression.

And I know. In the moment, I was aware. It was hurtful. It stung. But I wasn’t in the mood for Jen to pitch to me some shitty new years party so she could play matchmaker with me.

I wasn’t having it.

I must’ve looked as frustrated as I felt, Because, by the time I got back to work, Ryan asked me if I was okay. Only I blew him off, trying with every fiber of my being not to think about it.

By the time Ryan dropped me off home, I knew I was just going to crash. In a puddle of misery and pathetic nature.

I just lay down. And thought about it.

But Jen’s hurt looks, as she tried so hard to help me.

But there is a part where the rubber meets the road. And all the outside help in the world that I’m no longer getting, for depression and dissociation, can’t fix me in the sense that I will help myself.

And it’s not that I don’t know what steps to take.

It’s that I don’t want to take them.

And that's what it truly means to be lost within yourself.

SPOTD:

The Pain of the Devils Game

There are so many people  
In a mass of faces  
Calling for help  
And I am but one salmon  
One fish in the sea  
Fighting upstream  
Unable to change my direction

For the low road is hard and rocky  
And the high road is unreachable

This no good devil inside of me  
Only good for counting debt

For all the times I beg and cry for other people  
I still need more people to lean on

I’m putting more weight on others  
Then I can carry myself  
Wich just confirms to me  
What a waste of space I am.

But what I need to thrive  
Is to throw off more weight still  
And my attempted communication  
Only makes my tongue heavier

And while your lifetime is invested  
Of charity of friendships  
I'll drag you down with me  
You won’t miss heaven   
If you took my hand  
And willingly jumped into hell.


	20. T is for Troublemaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally caught up!!!! And now I'm sick with a writer's block. DAMNIT!

December 28th,

I woke up at four am this morning, while the night still held the sky in its grip.

I got out of bed, knowing that it was a better day. A good chance to leave behind my anger. My hatred.

I didn’t have a chance to go for a walk for the past few days, and It’s one of the main ways I find works the best for curbing my tendencies.

I grabbed a granola bar, and a can of tomato soup that I could microwave for a fast lunch today, and shot Ryan a text telling him he didn’t need to pick me up today.

Popped in my earbuds, dug deep into my SoundCloud playlists, and found one from a little more than a year ago, and let it spin.

It was good. An older mix of soft alternative, minor key, major key. I still knew all of the words. And I set out to work on foot, at four thirty in the morning.

There was next to nobody out, and walking would only really take me about an hour, which gave me an extra hour spent at a cafe if I could find one.and yeah. The walk did help.

I set out on foot, taking time for myself to really begin to process things. A little time in my own head for things to really start falling into place.

And it was good. I was just on a street corner when Google maps told me that there was a critically acclaimed cafe called The Lionheart nearby that I should probably try. I decided to go for it, because I wanted to sit down, and I had plenty of time to kill.

So I walked down the street, stepping in time to some older Caravan Palace song. God, I love jazz music.

When suddenly, I see a lump of clothing on the next block, surrounded by flowers.

By the time I can make out that she’s an older woman, experiencing homelessness, selling flowers.

“You look like you could use a flower.” She smiled up at me. I hope she had something to eat this morning and found a roof to be under last night.

ANd seeing as the flower looked amazing. Perfect even, I did stop.

“I… maybe I do,” I told her. I enjoy helping others when I can. Makes me feel like less of a toolbag.

She stood up before me on frail legs, her white hair and frail hands hoisting herself up. I would’ve offered a hand, but I felt that might be insulting.

She gestured to her five huge hand-made boxes filled with organic flowers. They did look fantastic.

“I used to run a flower shop… if you’re interested… tell me about your giftee, and I’ll fix you up a bouquet of the right arrangement.”

  
I was puzzled for a moment. “Wait- I thought flower arrangers didn’t think about what flowers meant… thought it was just a myth.”

“Most don’t… but I try to always take into account. It’s just nice.”

And I stopped. “Well… I don’t know if I have anybody to give flowers too… to be perfectly honest.” I told her.

“Well… you never have to sign your name, if you’re thinking of sending it to a possible lover…”

  
“Wait- how did you know?”

And she shoots me a smile, that looks like a whiches. Only it’s kind and knowing.

“Alvie can tell.” She says, pointing at herself with a wink.

“Would you care to buy a bouquet? Five dollars… I could use the money.”

And she did have a point. I didn’t have to sign my name… and five dollars? For a bouquet of these pretty flowers? I’m no gardener, but I’m pretty sure that was dirt cheap for the blossoming selecting she had.

“Yeah- actually… I think… I will. For sure.” I said, pulling out my earbud jack out of my phone and back in again to pause my music, even if my earbuds were already around my neck.

Her smile was so radiant, as she pulled out brown paper and a string.

“So… tell me about this person you’re making this for… what are they like? I want the whole story.” She told me.

And suddenly… there was an outlet.

  
A woman who suddenly could hear me and understood everything I had to say.

I came clean about everything. ABout loving him, being his best friends, denial, his favorite colors and places to be, how he spent Christmas with me, and how I’m not even sure how much longer I’m going to be able to spend all this time around him until I snap, and just come clean.

She listened, and assorted everything, and handed me a beautiful bouquet.

It had lavenders into pinks into yellow into white.

And she explained it all to me.

“Lavender roses symbolize love at first sight While a Gillyflower, shows lasting beauty, love and a happy life, white gardenia, are gifted from people experiencing secret and hidden love. And Christmas Roses, which mean Anxiety, and how the gifted makes it disappear.”

And with that, she tied the bow around it and handed me a true symbol and message about my love of Ryan.

“I…” I was speechless for a moment.

“Thank you Alvie,” I told her. “Thank you so much, that’s amazing!”

She smiled. “Anything to help the future generation of lovebirds pull through.”

And I finally remembered that I had to pay this sweet lady. And fuck it.

I had a fifty dollar bill on me and handed it to her.

“Oh- I’m sorry my boy-”

“Shane. It’s Shane.”

“Well, I’m sorry Shane, but I can’t crack this bill for you.”

ANd I just laughed.

“Who said I wanted it broken down? Keep it. Forty-five dollar tip for being a golden heart in a dark world.” I told her.

“Now… Shane… that is…”

“Profound?”

  
“So sweet of you.”

And she reached up, this absolutely puny woman hugged around my waist. It was frail, fragile, but the kindest gesture I’ve seen in a long time.

I hugged her back, with My flowers in hand still.

“Thank you for helping me out… I needed to get that off of my chest.”

“Thank you for helping me out… I needed to get something in my stomach today.”

And I stepped away.

“I’ll tell you what… I’ll bring you back something from the cafe down the street when I drive past you tomorrow. Do you… have any preference?”

“Shane- no, you must-”

And I shot her a look. “Arguing with a customer? That’s bad business… I’ll give you a choice. Muffin or bagel?”

  
And she sighed. “I’d love a muffin.”

And I took my flowers, walked the next few blocks, picked myself up a hard coffee, and a muffin. Walked back, and handed it to her.

I wished her a good day and was about to finish the walk to work when she stopped me.

“Shane!”

And I turned around to see her, hunched over herself in age.

“Yes?”

“I have… a favor to ask of you. If you wouldn’t mind me being so selfish?”

  
“Sure,” I said.

“I just… I want to know how things go with Ryan! Is all. Just know… you’ve got a little, old, homeless lady on your side.”

“No, I don’t,” I tell her. “I’ve got Alvie on my side.”

And I left for work that way.

I didn’t even think about the front steps. I was still forty-five minutes early, which was fine… because I had some flowers to deliver.

I set them gently on Ryan’s desk and debated for a moment leaving a poem with it, only to realize that a poem would be about as damning as just signing my own name.

So I kicked my feet up, cracked open my editing program, and completely disassociated.

Only when Ryan came in was it ever addressed again.

“Hey, Shane- what the?”

“Hey,” I said, as nonchalantly as possible.

“What the fuck?” HE said, peering at the flowers from afar, before approaching his desk.

“Flowers? What’s the occasion?”

I just shrugged. “They look pretty nice.”

Ryan saw a tag on the sing, and grasped it, only to read aloud:

“MY AFFECTION AND APPRECIATION FOR YOU”

“Weird,” I said.

“Do you know who put this here?” He asked looking dead serious. And I’ve already sworn to never lie to Ryan.

“Yeah. I know who did it, but they’ve sworn me to secrecy.”

“Shit.” Ryan already knows he won’t beat me in a game of stubbornness.

“Why? Were you hoping they were sent from somebody in particular?”

I asked the question without thinking. Dear god, me, I just can’t function today.

“Yeah… kind of.”

And there was a pause.

A moment was all time seemed to stop.

And I realized, I could grab ahold of this thread. Ripp out the third, throwing the curtain to the floor to reveal the truth I’ve wanted for so long but.

It was dangerous. Too dangerous.

And I instead shrugged my shoulders and left Ryan to wonder.

So close yet so far.

SPOTD:

With an arrangement of flowers  
From me to you  
Petals of my true emotions  
I really stop to remember  
That we are not special.

Every kind woman on the streets has something to say  
Wisdom to give, a story to tell  
And lovers all around the world giver flowers away  
And flowers all mean the same thing, no matter where you are.

SO our flowers  
And us, together, as a feeling  
Are just a staccato patchwork of others  
Others love and togetherness and feelings

If we turn every person and every opportunity over  
We could find flowers in colors of all kinds

And if we put them all together

What a lifetime it would be.


	21. U is for Uneasiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god, I"M LATE IM LATE IM LATE AND SICK AND STRESSED AND OH GOD

December 29th,

Today was the day I finally got my car back. I was a little sad that I would no longer be starting off my day by seeing Ryan, but it eased the stress a little bit, which was priceless in that moment.

I stopped by and gave Alvie a muffin in the morning while picking up a coffee for myself. I told her all about how I gave it to him, and how he said he hoped it was from somebody in particular, which made her face light up in such a nice way. 

“Now all we have to work on… is a confession.”

“Yeah… I don’t know about that.” I told her. “I’m pretty nervous.”

“Nervousness just shows that you care,” Alvie told me. “I think it would be better if you set yourself a deadline.”

“A deadline?”

“Yes. Something tangible.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, Shane… you better start somewhere. Or else this love of yours is going to eat you alive.”

I bowed my head. “I know,” I admitted. “I really… I need some help.”

“Oh, come here,” Alvie said, coaxing me into a hug. I tried to ignore how far down I had to reach, and how strange it was for any cars passing by on the highway, to see a thirty-year-old man the height of a lamp post lowering down to embrace an older homeless woman, but Alvie was so kind, I really couldn’t bring myself to care.

“You always have help in Alvie… now… the next time I see you… I want you to have thought about a deadline for confessing your feelings for your friend. This Ryan boy sounds charming… I’d love to meet him.”

I shrugged. “Maybe…” I said. “I don’t know… talking to him has been getting harder.”

“Oh, sweetie.” She frowned. “You’re overthinking things again. You’ve got to relax, take pride, and take stride! He enjoys you for who you are. The more you relax, the better things will be. I promise!”

“You think so?”

“I know so… Alvie was young and in love once… men are… thick sometimes, I know… Very dense when it comes to love- but if anybody can get through to Ryan, It’s you.”

“Thanks,” I told her, staring at the ground. Her flowers swaying in my peripheral vision. “I needed to hear that.”

“Now… you need to get to work. Go out there- seize the day!” She told me with a pat on the arm. 

I bid her a good day and good sales and left Alvie in her boxes of flowers.

I got to work and started working away. Ryan actually started talking to me, about our next unsolved postmortem shoot, and I let him go on a bit. I tried to relax. Lower my hunched shoulders. This was Ryan. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Only, for the first time that day, Jen came up to us, posters in hand.

“Hey!” She said, avoiding my gaze. “I just… I wanted to let you all know, that I’m having a new years party! Hosted at the inn on 6th street. Rented out the place. It’s formal… but there will be drinks. Lots of drinks… and uh… you need to bring a date! Totally free… Just come! I’m uh… trying to get the news around… I think It’ll be fun!” And then she was gone, leaving one poster on our desk.

…

...shit.

“A formal new years party?” Ryan asked picking up the poster to look at it more closely. “The holidays’ aren't over yet, close out the holidays with our banging new year's party… bring a date…?”

I swallowed. “Yeah… She was mentioning something like this to me a few days ago.”

“Really? Why you? You hate parties.”

 

“I mean… I only hate them if I go alone.” I sighed. “I suppose… Sarah won’t go with me, even as just a friend.”

 

“Yeah I.. Don’t think she would. Ouch.” Ryan flinched.

And suddenly, I’m back on the highway, hugging Alvie, her telling me that what I need is a deadline.

“Were you uh…” I started without thinking, and suddenly being forced to finish it. “Did you wanna go to this?”

Ryan looked up at me, eyes open like a cabinet, for me to just peer inside. “I mean… maybe. I don’t have anything else happening on New Years’ Eve.”

“Oh- uh… I mean, did you know if you were going to ask anybody? To… uh… go with?”

 

I’m tripping over just about every other word, and I know my face is red. I can feel the heat radiating off of my own checks. 

“I mean… I… Kinda? But I mean… why?”

Kinda? KINDA? What was I supposed to do WITH A KINDA? LIke shit Ryan, If I’m red in the face, asking you all these fucking questions, and you say kinda? Not really throwing me a bone here dude. Say Yes, I wanna ask ‘blank’ or NO FOR FUCKS SAKE.

“I mean… If you didn’t have anybody to go with? And I mean… You get… desperate? I… Just… look, I know I’m not the most fun at parties, and I don’t dance a lot… and I just… crowds scare me a little bit but…”

 

Ryan’s just staring at me like he can’t believe this is all I can come up with. I've underwhelmed myself if I do say so. I say so.

“I just… Would you maybe go with me?”

And at that very moment, the last part of my soul left my body. Now I knew how Voldemort felt.

“Wait.” Ryan just gaped at me. “Really?”

“I mean… yes?”

 

“Hell yeah dude! The ghoul boys will crush that join!” He said, smiling wide. “Let’s do it!”

 

And you knew then that I wasn’t going to sleep that night.

I tried to work, I honestly did, but the editing was slow, and all I could think about was going to the dance with Ryan. Good gosh, I needed to apologize to Jen. That girl just saved my pathetic gay ass. 

I just kept imaging it. I wasn’t the best dancer in the world, my slow-dancing could use some work for sure, and parties really weren't my scene, but dancing with Ryan? With his hands around my waist, swaying in time with me? It was a drug to imagine. And I don’t think I’ve ever fantasized about dancing before.

I just thought about it. Thought and thought. A giggling drunk Ryan… In my grasp… dancing. No cares to be seen. 

And I was still thinking about it by the time I was home. 

Only, before I left, Ryan hugged me goodbye. 

I may have been imagining things, but I think his hands were shaking a little bit. He wished me a good night. And told me to text him if he needed anything. 

And honestly? I was woozy the whole rest of the night. So lovestruck I felt high. It was a little shameful. But my brain just couldn’t let go of the thought. The ideas. The experience. I just had to go through with it.

SPOTD:

My Mother, Mentor, And Family Is An Old Homeless Woman:

Alvie  
A name meaning wise  
Pushed onto the streets  
When your husband died  
Selling flowers to strangers  
On the concrete sidewalks  
Hoping to make the wold bloom  
Into every known hue

Alvie,   
You act as a mother  
A caretaker  
Even if I’ve only known you a day  
The least I can do  
Is treat you to breakfast  
And buy a bouquet or two  
To help share the love

Alvie,   
You spread your wings and that love  
You help others when they’ve fallen  
Easing their crash  
In a blooming field

Alvie,   
You give life a meaning  
One bud after another  
Type of flowers  
Poetic

Alvie, my dearest  
I want to give you the world  
For you give yourself to it  
It’s time the world gave back

-Shane Madej


	22. V is for Vanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New YEARS YOU DIRY TRASH MAMMALS!

December 30th, 

The truth drops on me like a sledgehammer. 

I’m going to a dance. And Ryan is my date.

It’s the first thing I remember when I wake up, and I can’t even believe it’s real. It’s so dreamlike, I’m doubting everything.

I turn over and look at my clock. I’ve got time to get to work but…

Fuck it.

I grab around my bedside table blindly, without my glasses, until I find my phone, and fire off a text to Jen.

“Hey- I’m taking a sick day… feeling under the weather. I know I already apologized last night, but I wanted to make sure we were cool?”

 

And I got back a response. 

“Of course we are! We were both outta line, all forgiven. I’ll let the higher-ups know. You still on for the party?”

 

“I mean… I have to be.”

“Yeah! Ryan would be sad if you missed it.”

“I would too. Have a good day.”

And even though my body was heavy, and I called a mental health day on work, I stood up, got dressed, and thought back to Christmas. WHen my dad told me I should make more home-cooked meals. 

Paused for a moment, and started opening my cupboards.

I tried and failed in the kitchen for almost an hour, and I knew that Alvie would be wondering where I was about now… So I tried my best. Salvaged up some paper plates, and put warm french toast with Syrup and a side fruit salad on a plate, wrapped it up in saran wrap and Drove to meet Alvie.

She smiled as she saw me jogging towards her, but once I got to her she glared at me playfully.

“You’re late for work, you filthy trash mammal.”

“I took a day off… no work today.” I told her, and her face softened. 

“Oh- thank goodness! Shane, you had me worried!” SHe said, hugging me. “You need to stay in line at that job. Trust me, there are far worse jobs out there. You’re lucky! Take care of yourself.”

 

“I know… I will.”

 

And I handed the plate out to her. “I thought you might like… a home-cooked breakfast for a change.” I told her. “I’m really… I’m shit at cooking if I’m honest. But I tried my best… French toast? Fruit salad?”

Alvie just stared at me, before breaking out into a huge smile. 

“Shane… thank you so much.” And the motherly love on her face was tangible. 

I’d already talked about the subject with her before. Her family. 

He husband had recently died, and he’d had the job, and all the retirement savings to his name. He was a mean bitter man, but Alvie had softened him. Together they were happy. But she was barren, and he never wanted to adopt children. So Alvie had been a school teacher, and now that she was unemployed, the whole world was full of her children.

“How’s the business?” I ask, Couching down on the sidewalk next to her. 

“You know… slow, but fulfilling. The few people who buy are all so good to the world. And those who do not? Still valued, but I’ll never really know for certain.”

And that was how Alvie looked at the world. 

When suddenly, I had an idea. 

 

“Alvie, how many flower arrangement do you think you’d be able to make?” I asked. 

“Well… I plant flowers all around the city. To make a more beautiful area… I can collect them at any time. As many as a few hundred… why?”

 

I shrugged. “Well… I might be able to phone you in some business.” I told her. “ABout the whole setting a deadline thing? I set it for a party… and the host may need some flowers.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful! Flowers and a deadline… that’s the best news I’ve heard all day! Good for you Shane! When is it?”

“Uh… tomorrow?”

“What?!” Alvie stared to me. “Tomorrow? Shane! I’m so proud of you!” And her smile was as wide as could be. “You’re so brave, going after Ryan. He’d be a fool not to scoop up a fine young man like yourself.”

“You think it’s brave?”

 

“Well of course! Following your heart always requires courage… especially if it’s… frowned upon. Shane… I’m sorry that some people think that your love for Ryan is different than anything else… I don’t… I’m not familiar with all the terms of sexuality… frankly, I don’t think it matters. It’s all just words to put people into categories. I say just let people love who they do and do not wish to love and be who they do and do not wish to be. Must it be more complex than that?” She laughed.

“Preach, Alvie.”

 

“God… just let people be people, and enjoy ourselves and others… smell the roses, don’t touch the thorns, you know?”

 

“I understand… I get it. But I think my co-workers will be pretty cool about it. I mean… except for my ex. She uh… hasn’t really forgiven me. I just knew it wasn't working out, and I want to be friends again… but she just keeps shutting me out. I don’t get it!”

 

“Water under the bridge, my son, let it go. She’ll have to as well in time.”

“I get it,” I said, but I’d flicked out my phone, and was asking Sarah if she needed flowers for her party. And where to find Alvie.

“Well… you get home and rest, Shane. Take it slow. Do not panic. Do not be afraid. Enjoy yourself, be yourself, and do whatever you can today to make tomorrow shine.”

And with another hug, I left Alvie for the day.

I’d picked out an outfit for tomorrow's dance already, looking forward to it. And I’d already called my brother in a panic, because I didn’t know what I was doing, and I needed to let it all out. 

He laughed at me, poked fun at the fact that my dad still thought I was straight, then gave me generic advice. I Googled advice and was turning this party into the one thing I knew best. Numbers. 

Only… romantic attraction doesn’t translate well into integral calculus.

And suddenly, there was a knock at my door. 

My heart jumped, knowing who it was by the sound of his knock, glanced to make sure I had pants on, then hopped up to greet the door.

Sure enough, Ryan was there, goofy grin at the sight of me. Hair sloppy from when he’d just taken off his hat. Cowlick sticking out at the back of his head.

“Get in here.”

I ushered him out of the cold, and into my apartment, which wasn’t too messy, and he kicked off his shoes and held out a box.

“I heard you took a sick day off… and I… ran to your favorite tea shop… brewery… place… on the other side of town. PIcked up your favorite,”

And I inspected the box and sure enough, it read 

“English, Irish breakfast blend with Ginseng, cranberry, and lemon”

“Shit,” I said, staring at the box. “This is… This is legit the best tea I’ve ever had. It’s liquid gold!”

 

He just shrugged. “You mentioned it once… and it was out of stock for Christmas…”

 

“Dude, the last time I had this was last year… how did you remember?” I was dumbfounded.

“I mean… I do listen to you. You know that, right?”

And I smiled. Ryan really would be a killer boyfriend… If I got so lucky.

“So… feel better soon?” He offered. “You will be better for the party tomorrow, right?”

 

“Yeah- yeah. For sure.” I told him. “It was… well… it was more of a mental health day. If I’m honest? I just… I needed some space. Depression kicked in big time… like. Marjory.”

It wasn’t a lie. I’d felt heavy and unmotivated all day.. But there had been no sobbing involved. That all happened a week or so ago.

“Shit- really?” Ryan asked, and suddenly a protective gear kicked into drive for him. “Did you need anything? Like… popcorn? Dinner? A hug? Me to leave?”

“Relax dude… my depression isn’t that bad.”

 

“Well it can end pretty terribly,” Ryan told me. “Remember I told you about Amber?”

And I swallowed. I actually had forgotten. 

Ryan, in high school, had dated a girl named Amber. SHe’d had heavy depression and tried to kill herself while Ryan was dating her. Thankfully she lived and broke up with him later, but it still terrified Ryan to this day.

“Ryan… I’m okay. Really.”

But Ryan swooped in for a hug anyways, and Shane tucked him into his arms. It was nice… warm. Ryan’s breathing was soothing.

“If you’re really that worried you can stay for a while,” I told him. “If not, I promise I’ll be fine.”

 

“You promise?”

 

“I promise I won’t do anything stupid,” I told him, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. 

“Good… I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you, Shane.”

“Don’t know what I’d do without you either.”

And Ryan released me, setting my tea on the table. 

“I’d uh… like to stay. Just… so I don’t worry. If you wouldn’t mind the company?”

“I’d love to have you,” I said with a wink. “I was just gonna slap in Krampus. The movie? After the holiday special, I put it on my list of movies to watch. Heard it was pretty good.”

 

“So… a horror movie?”

 

“Gateway horror. Like Gremlins.”

 

“Okay…” He said. 

“You’ll be fine.” I teased. 

And he was. He told me more about Krampus, all the facts he’d left out of the script, how accurate the film was. Personally? I was admiring that there was little to no CGI, and it was mostly puppet work. I love puppets more than CGI. Looks way cooler. 

We made some popcorn, like the true kernel heads we are, and laughed at the ridiculous looking gingerbread men.

It was a great movie… and probably even better with Ryan rambling slightly about history… mythology… the things he was so passionate about. He was so cute when he rambled on… and on… you just had to be invested. There was no way you couldn’t be.

And after our film, I assured him I was feeling much better. There was still a worried look in his eyes, and I tried to calm him as best as possible. I reminded him that I know he’s just a phone call away and that killing myself is stupid because no afterlife exists. And he let me go. 

The door closed behind him, but as he left I swear he muttered something. 

Something that sounded like ‘I love you.”

 

SPOTD:

SKEPTICS ARE BELIEVERS:

We doubt to believe  
Without white, there is no black  
And without skeptics, there is no reason to believe

So as you scream about you EVPS

The only audio I’m replaying  
Is the moment that you leave  
On the frost December night   
Possibly saying that you love me.

As you squint at shadows, making out the negative space  
I try to see the positive of our day to day too late’s  
Our nights awake with nightmares   
Our days spent writing poetry  
Buying flowers and drink  
And watching a movie

I squint for the meaning behind the madness.

For I am skeptical, on the inside, I want so badly to believe it.


	23. W is for Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow! So so sorry that this was so delayed, finals and school are kicking my ass, but you'll all like this chapter, I think. In big news...
> 
> I'm uh... HOW MANY OF YOU LIKE A SEQUAL??!!? With the try guys?!?! Zagene?!?! Maybe? Same formatting, titled 
> 
> "The ABC Emotions Of Me, Myself, You and I?"
> 
> any... any thoughts?
> 
> Happy reading!

December 31st,

Today is the greatest day of my life.

I’m writing this now. In bed. And Ryan’s dozed off next to me, so I’ll try to write this fast but… there is so much swimming in my head that I need to put down to the paper.

Waking up was wild this morning. I’d stayed up super late. Just thinking.

Had Ryan said, “I love you”? Or was this my skeptic’s EVP? Hearing what I wanted too, even if it was just a squeaky shoe or the wind.

More than that. Surely Ryan must know what was happening by now? He brought me that tea and came to visit instead of a text.

All night I just thought about what it would be like to run my hands through his hair. To hold him as close as I possibly could for hours on end.

I felt like a teenage girl, thinking about it all. Kissing him. Oh god… kissing him. Just the thought made my chest clench and legs wobble. Pressing hot kisses up to his lips. Forehead. Last night was just a huge messy puddle of my overflowing emotions towards Ryan Bergara.

I wanted to hold him. Anywhere. I didn’t care. I didn’t care what happened. If I got Ryan as a romantic partner? I could be fired, I could be living on the streets with Alvie I wouldn’t care. God… The thoughts of kissing him. Ryan Bergara. Kissing him on his stupidly handsome tanned face, Playing with his hands… his small fingers.

By the time I swung my legs out of bed, I’d sealed my fate.

I couldn’t even eat that morning. I just grabbed a granola bar for Alvie and some coffee for myself.

I dropped by, and she stood up when she saw me.

“Shane!” She called out to me. “Shane oh- goodness, thank you!”

I blinked. Was she already thanking me?

I finally got up to her, and she hugged me again.

“You’re friend Jen stopped by to buy flowers for me. Thank you so much… I really needed that sales boost. She was so darling. So sweet.”

“I’m glad it helped!” I told her. “I knew she needed some…”

“She was so kind. Tipped me also? Gosh, you have a good friend in her…”

“I know,” I said, handing Alvie her granola bar. Better than nothing. “But uh… the party is tonight?”

“I know!” She smiled at me, and we sat down together and watched the cars zoom past on the highway.

“I’m so proud of you Shane. I really am… I was just thinking… I…”

She looked down. “I mean. I hope you won’t mind… but I was asking Jen a few things and… I… I made you another bouquet. To give to Ryan tonight. If you wanted too.”

I froze.

“Wait. YOu’re kidding.”

And she procured the most beautiful flower arrangement I’ve ever seen from inside one of her boxes. Tall white flowers on stalks in the center melted into vibrant pink pointed flowers, moving down to baby pink dusted blossoms. Like buttercups, but speckled in white. The centers of them looked like golden pearls. The colors tying to the center.

  
“I know it’s just a simple arrangement, but I wanted to try. Acacias are concealed and pure love. Pink Camella’s are a strong longing, pink Larkspurs are fickleness, and Jonquils are a wish for returned affection…” She said. “If you want it… It’s on me.”

I genuinely felt tears pricking my eyes. “Alvie?”

“Is that… a no?” She asked. “I’m sorry, I’m intruding far too much.”

“No! No! I love it! Alvie, thank you so much! I was just… god, I’m just so staggered.”

  
She smiled weakly. “I’m so glad… thank you, Shane. For visiting me. All these days? This was the least I could do. Keep my last few months of life from getting too lonely.”

  
I flinched, my hand froze as it reached for the flowers. “Last months? Alvie, you’ve got a few years left.”

  
SHe shook her head sadly. “Not with the streets wearing these bones dry.” She said. “I don’t think It’ll happen.”

“BUllshit.” I spat, and suddenly I was fired up.

“My brother. He… He runs a senior home with an old buddy of his. It’ll take some string pulling. But this winter… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Shane! No! Don’t worry about me. I'm happy selling my flowers here!”

And I cupped her face in my hands.

“You’ll be happier if you can sell your flowers for years to come, with a roof over your head at night. I was going to offer it up to you anyways, once I talked to my brother… but I have no choice now. If the streets are this unkind? I’m forcing him to take you.”

And it was true, I had started the conversation with Finn. About possibly finding Alvie a home. But I didn’t want to get her hopes up if it was unnecessary or didn’t work out. But now?

It had to work out.

And Alvie cried.

  
Alvie cried, and I just hugged her, Staring at the bouquet she’d made, sewn with so much love.

Soon, I did have to leave for work. Alvie was sniffling. Thanking me profusely, probably the most humbling thing I’ve ever heard, ever.

She was clutching at me, even if I had to go, and I thanked her for the flowers and promised her I would see her soon.

And… I drove to work.

Work when by relatively fast. Ryan was off filing for a video outside of Unsolved, so I could daydream all I wanted.

My flowers were in my car… and I knew my clothes were already laid out, but I was nervous. I was scared. Panicking even. I wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there, but at the same time, I was chomping at the bit to ask. To get this over with. Just to know.

And I drove home, mind set on holding myself together.

The party started two hours after work.

I still couldn’t eat anything. I felt hollow on the inside, and I hadn’t eaten anything all day, but all I could stomach was some apple juice- which is kind of pathetic.

I got dressed and stared at myself in the mirror for far too long.

It was a more casual suit… was a suit too fancy? Would I be overdressed? Son of a bitch… I had no idea.

So I texted a picture to Jen, asking for my fear.

And all she told me was “Shane! You look great- Ryan’s gonna go crazy for that!”

“Stop!”

“He will! I PROMISE”

“Whatever.”

And I turned up my nose, pretending not to care.

And soon, I was in the car. Hands trembling. I was scared out of my mind. I don’t think I’ve been that terrified in forever. Jittery…

By the time I saw the building where Jen was hosting, her sister ran the place, I could see lights on from outside. And I got out of the car, realizing that my knees were weaker than they felt.

I Started stumbling towards the area, texting Ryan.

“Hey… just got here.”

“Cool! I’m already inside… talking to Zach.”

“Okay! I’ll hunt you down.”

I stole myself and entered. There were so many people inside. Like… too many.

I did track down Ryan. Sitting at a table, with a beer he’d just started. Zach was there too. Ryan’s new co-host on Buzzfeed unsolved sports. Which, I wished I could’ve been in for, but couldn’t… for Ryan’s sake.

They were already laughing away by the time I walked up to them.

Ryan stared at me for a moment, once I came into view, looked me head to toe. “Wow… Shane, you look great!” He smiled. “Damn… I mean, I knew you cleaned up well but... shit.”

And I pulled up the chair next to him. “Thanks, You look pretty good yourself.”

And he did. A black suit jacket with nice pants, and a white blazer. He looked like he’d tried to tame his hair, only it didn’t quite work, and he’d given up. I wasn’t sure whether to call it cute… or handsome.

Or both. Fuck you.

“Hey, Shane.” Zach greeted me, but it was a little bitter. “Ryan and I was just talking about or next shooting for unsolved sports.”

“Oh yeah?” I leaned back in my chair. “How’s that going.”

“Pretty good, actually,” Zach said, and the way he was looking at me? It wasn’t settling well under my skin. “My and Ryan have been stepping up our game… watch out, Shane… you might have a replacement.”

I stopped.

What the fuck was Zach trying to pull?

“It has been good.” Ryan softly admitted.

Oh, hell no. I am not having this shit. Not today.

“So Ryan.” Zach leaned forward. “You didn’t come with a date tonight… did you? How about I buy you another beer.”

ANOTHER?!

And suddenly, a huge rush of overprotectiveness slammed me. Zach… was flirting with Ryan? Not on my watch he wasn’t.

Ryan opened his mouth, but I got there first.

“Actually Zach… I’m his date tonight... “ I told him, not sounding as confident in the fact as I wished I did. “Why?”

But Zach only shrugged. “Is that so? That’s unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate?” I asked. “What are you trying to say?”

“I mean… Ryan, if you’d like a dance with me? I’m game.”

And at that point, I’m sure that Zach may be a little drunk.

“Ryan… can we… can we go?” I asked him, quietly. This is why I hate parties.

“Sorry, Zach.” He said. “Maybe another time.”

And I took him away to the bar. FIghting off the almost animalistic urge to wrap my arm around his shoulder and tell him that he’s mine for flirting, but that was just stupid. I probably needed to watch what I drink.

We sat ourselves down and I scanned around for anybody to help me… only there was no help to be seen. So instead I ordered myself a whiskey on the rocks and tuckered in for a long night.

“I think Zach was a little drunk,” I told Ryan. “Sorry… I get nervous about that kind of thing.”

“I know. You worry more about other people than yourself.” And yeah… I was worried that somebody might punch Zach’s teeth out. That person being me.

“Yeah.”

“I kinda figured… I mean, what sober person would ask me for a dance?” Ryan asked, taking a swig of beer. “It just makes sense.”

“Hey now.” I scolded him, as I got my whiskey. “Not true at all. I think you’re a real catch! Plenty of people would kill for a dance with you.”

“If only that were true.” He sighed. “Thanks anyway, Shane.”

“Not… not joking, you fuckin’ idiot.”

  
Ryan chuckled “of course you weren’t.”

I just sighed. “Shut up,” I told him. And wow… the conversation really was flowing tonight, wasn’t it?

And I tried looking around again. Ryan was considerate enough to not say anything more. Just wait for me to pull myself together. I surveyed me… when I felt a heavy weight on my shoulder.

I turned around just in time to see Ryan looping his arms around mine, and putting his weight on me, clutching me like he could to support himself.

“Ryan?” I asked, looking over at him, worried. But he didn’t break himself away from me. “I’m tired.” He gripped. And hugged my arm close. There was no empty air between us.

“Then why are you here?” I asked him. “I keep telling you that you need to sleep more, you fucking moron.”

“Hmm… you’re one to talk.” Ryan grumbled.

“Touche.”

“Seriously though… how are you? You look… a little jumpy.” Ryan said. “Is it just the party… or?”

“I mean…” Do I dare get this close to the flame? Or do I play it safe as per usual?

Well… I mean, all you have to do is play it UNSAFE once…

“I’m sure that’s a part of it,” I told him.

“But not all of it?”

“Yeah.”

Ryan clutched to my arm tighter. I know Ryan is giggly and clingy when drunk. Cheery and loving drunk, but he hadn’t even finished his first beer… so that must not be the case.

“Am I allowed to know why else you’re nervous?” He asked.

“Nope.” I was almost finished with my whiskey. Drinking with Ryan was always good. It gave me formidable excuses for contact… he might forget the stupid shit I say...and it helped relax the nerves in me that shouldn't be tense but were, because… well…

Ryan.

“Come on… please?”

“Nope,” I told him again, finishing off my whiskey. “Hey uh… does… does Zach do that often?”

“Do what?”

“Flirt with you? Drunk? Or sober… at all?”

Ryan shrugged, and I saw a faint smile on his lips. “Yeah… once in a while.” and my fist tightened on my glass. That son of a bitch. “Why?”

“Oh… I was just curious… Is all.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… I didn’t know Zach was into men.” I gazed out on the dancefloor. It was packed full of people I both knew and not. “It was just unexpected.”

“Oh- that’s all?” Ryan asked. “You still look jumpy.”

“Eat a dick, Ryan.” I didn’t know what was worse. The fact that Ryan held my arm, or the fact that he was trying to get a rise out of me while doing so.

And he was succeeding… if you wanted a rise of a different variety…

I glanced down at myself. ‘Down boy.’

I was still staring at the crowd of people when suddenly I stopped. And squinted.

I saw Sarah… kissing a man I’d never seen before.

Ouch.

Ryan didn’t even notice what was wrong for a moment. He just spun his beer bottle in circles lazily.

I don’t know why it stung to see that so much. I don't care about the other things. I was over her, and she needed to move on… but…

It was still that stab in my chest… like I was replaceable.

Because I was.

Ryan looked up. “Shane? What’s wrong?”

I looked at him. “Nothing I just… I just saw Sarah.”

“Oh…”

“She was kissing another dude…”

Ryan's face dropped. “Oh. Shit man…”

“Yeah…” I said. “Like, I’m over her, and want the best for her… but it’s… it’s kinda shitty.”

“Yeah… I know.” Ryan said. “Helen has a new boyfriend too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Ryan shrugged. “I try not to think about it. Makes everything worse.”

“That’s fair,” I said. And looking away from the dancefloor was so hard. I wanted to keep watching. Like I deserved to see it, but it cut so deep.

Ryan finally let go of my arm, which for once? I was glad. Being to close people right now felt like a personal attack in a weird way.

Ryan just looked at me for another moment. Eyes a rich black in the blue party lights, before he hopped off of his barstool and to his feet.

“Let’s dance!”

I froze. “What?”

“You heard me, let’s dance!”

“What- why?!” I was trying to process all of it.

Ryan rolled his eyes at me. “Fine, you want me to ask the formal way? Geez, okay fine.”

“I- wait- no I- Ryan?”

But Ryan leaned backward, plucking a flower out of an arrangement in a vase that Angie must’ve assembled. It was a white daisy, long, and he bit the stem in his mouth, and flipped his hair playfully, holding his hand out to me like a moron.

“May I ask you for a dance?” he asked, so over dramatically that I laughed. Even with all the shit coursing through my mind.

“That’s…” I giggled. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What, so you don’t like it?” He asked, around the flower stem and all.

And I knew I was getting flustered fast. Red face… I’d blame it on the whiskey if anybody asked.

“No- no, I like it I just-”

“Then come on!” He said, spitting the flower out. He pulled on my hand, before tearing off the part of the stem he’d bitten.

 

“There… Perfect.” He smiled as he tucked it into my suit’s pocket.

Game over.

“Ryan?”

He stepped back. “You look great!” He smiled. “Now let’s go!” And he tugged me all the way into the middle of the dancefloor.

“I’ve told you before,” I told him. “I don’t know how to dance very well.”

“Relax Shane. How bad could this be?”

Atrocious, I thought, but Ryan has this habit of defying expectations. In every way.

And then… the song that was playing stopped… and uh…

Jen. I looked over at the sound booth and saw her looking right at me, as she searched for something on her phone from the other side of the building.

Then… the waltz started to play.

Jen shot me a thumbs up, and a smile and I mouthed at her “I HATE YOU.”

But actually? This was great.

Ryan just elbowed me. “Come on, I showed you how too at the New Orleans hotel.”

And Ryan slipped between my arms. My hand as placed on his hips, and his on my shoulders, having to reach comically far up to do so.

And shit… if that wasn’t what I was dreaming about?

He took the lead, and I had to keep looking at my feet to stop stepping on him. God, I was barely hearing the music. I felt like some weird-gangly-noodle-creature. Like… more than usual.

But god. I don’t know if the whiskey was hitting me fast or what, but Ryan’s swaying hips was smoother than anything I’d ever seen before.

His steps were precise, but when there was a mistake, on either of our parts, He’d stumble right into my chest. And I don’t know if it was the claustrophobia of it all, but I felt like each time he stepped back a little less.

I must’ve been right, because a precious and fast few minutes passed, and Ryan suddenly leaned his head right over my heart, which was probably drumming against his ear from under my shirt. His head resting on me, he still continues to step in the right ways, looking somewhat sleepy. The kind of tired look people have when they curl up in a warm bed, not ready to fall asleep just yet, but wanting to drift off after enjoying the warmth of the comforter for a moment.

“Ryan?” I asked gently. With no response.

We moved to the music more, and good god- I’m not kidding when I call it a spell. I felt so out of control, but I wanted to be there so badly. I really was in love. Nobody else ever made me feel this way.

“This is nice,” Ryan admitted, shifting does only his forehead rested on my chest, eyes closed. “This is great.”

“Are… are you drunk?”

  
“God… I wish I were.” Ryan said. “You know how many beers I should’ve had before this? More then I ended up having.”

“Ryan- why?” I knew Ryan liked divulging in prestressed beers. We always went for a drink before unsolved shoots. “What’s the matter?”

  
Ryan leaned into me a little closer. “Everything.” He muttered. “Oh god Shane, everything. Everything about this.”

And I stopped. He paused with me as well before opening his eyes to look up at me. Only-

“Shane-”

“Ryan, what did I do? What can- Can I help? What do you need?”

“No- Shane, that was-”

“I know. I know I’ve been a bad friend. And a huge burden. I know. I get it. I’m the worst. I just-”

“Shane!” Ryan cried, and I stopped.

“What?”

And Ryan pointed above us.

I looked up, squinting, and sure enough. There was a little plant, hanging by a string, wrapped in white, silk ribbon.

“...”

“... Shit.”

Ryan frowned. “Shit? You really think kissing me would be so bad?”

I tried to cover myself. “What? No- of course not, you’re my best friend- I love you, Ryan, but this is just weird.”

“You love me how?”

And Ryan's eyes were deadly serious.

“What?”

“In what way do you love me?”

I bowed my head.

“I mean… I’ll love you. I’ll love you in any way you want me too.”

“Then kiss me.” He said, throwing it down like a dare.

And when leaned down, the inches between us vanishing. I could've sworn that the big bang reoccurred and that a whole new world burst before my eyes. A universe that didn’t love just you, but loved the US.

In my stomach were fluttering bluebirds with their worms. My lungs were ripped out of me by the wolves. I was floating above the ground in a heaven with a devil’s tail, but you made me so complete I didn’t care.

I forgot how to breathe, and I forgot my own name, but in that moment I could’ve told you in great detail everything about Ryan Bergara birth to death.

It was so much more to me than a kiss. It was a connection.

When “Me, Myself, And I”  
Became “Me, Myself, You and I.”

My emotions overflowed and drowned me alive, yet I felt so empty inside like all of my life flowed straight into my throat and mouth. Suffocating me, yet kissing you.

It was insanity.

And I, Shane Alexander Madej, knew for certain that this.

This was what love really felt like.

And that feeling of abundance and of love? It never went away.

Not when the music stopped, and Jen shouted out her congratulations over the loudspeaker. Not when I was kissing you five minutes after. Not when we stopped our lips to dance with the rest of ourselves. Not when Zach came to apologize to me, explaining how he did it on purpose in coordination with Ryan.

Especially not when Ryan said, “I love you.” Again, and I knew the tone of voice from the night before when he left my apartment. I knew that he meant it. I knew that I meant it.

When he confessed that he had a crush on me for the longest time, and being able to say the same.

This feeling of love just grew and grew with every time we kissed. When I cupped his cheeks and could feel the warmth.

And after an hour, I still felt the dancing in my chest, as I, without wearing, practically collapsed into your arms. Trembling violently.

You asked me what was wrong so panicked, I knew you cared about me.

You looked horrified when I told you I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and when I told you that I hadn’t drunk all the much either… and that the medications I took were probably not meshing well either.

You kissed me fast, and I love you even more as you helped guide a stumbling me to my car, and drove me home.

I love you as I almost passed out in the car, clutching a water bottle I’d stowed in the back.

And I did doze off for a moment, shaking on an empty stomach. Until you were handing me a Mcdonald's bag in the drive-through, telling me to start eating now. And with you asking me? How could I not eat a few french fries?

Could the night have gone better? Yes, of course. Could it have been more romantic? Absolutely.

But did either of us really care, and think it to not be perfect? Not a chance.

One I had a hamburger, some fries and an apple inside of me, I did feel better, but Ryan wasn’t having it. Besides, it was late and cold outside. And we were still dreamily kissing at every possible interval making up for lost time.

I gave you the flowers that Alvie had made, and you almost cried, finally figuring out that the original bouquet was from me. Wrapping me up in your embrace.

And that’s how I land here. Feeling slightly faint, with Ryan sleeping next to me in bed.

Was it the greatest day ever?

Hell yeah, it was.

SPOTD

Heart over head  
Head over heels  
Heels struck with arrows  
From the cupids

I don’t know my mythology as well as I know you

But my Achilles heel is emotion

And I feel it all.

You are the stars to light the skies  
The apple of my eyes  
The butterflies that dance in my stomach?  
You.

You are the fire to burn the candles  
And warm me to the bones

I’m not used to the chill of heaven  
But I’m here with you now

I have fooled the devil  
And I have outsmarted myself  
Into thinking that in this world  
The odds were stacked against me

I had you  
And I had me  
I had Alvie  
And poetry  
My family   
And in my heart, residing.

And that’s all I truly need from this life.

You are the final piece to my puzzle.   
The last turn of a Rubix cube  
The simple answer to my question   
Of what love really was.

It’s confusing  
And I know it  
It is hard  
Though I don’t show it  
But you read me like a book  
And tuck me on the shelf

I am surrounded by those who love and care  
And even if sometimes they aren't there

I see you in everything.

In the stars and moon  
The birds outside, the loons.  
In the steam of my tea  
And the honey from the bees  
The salt and sugar that make up you and me  
One oh so bitter  
And one unbearably sweet

I’ll love you forever, I know it

From my head to the heels,

And I know now, that you’ll love me all the same.

From me, myself, and I  
To me, myself, you and I

To “Me, Myself, And Us.”


	24. X is for Xerotic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I really hae no exuse for this coming out so late. It's just... life's been throwing me lots of curveballs. Like... I'm hardly holding it together. But I promise I will finish this all up soon! End notes too.... :)
> 
> DONT POST THE POEM AWNSERS IN THE COMMENTS

January 1st, 2018,

It was a new day when I woke up this morning and holy hell.   
For all the shit these last few years have thrown our way? To be waking up with Ryan? This beat it all.

My memory was hazy, and only holding onto certain parts of the night before… and even if I didn’t kiss him on new years? I was with him. And that’s what really mattered.

And waking up the morning? Ryan was tucked into my arms. I think you could call it spooning, only my limbs were comically long compared to him, really I was just hugging him from behind.   
He was still sleeping, chest rising and falling slowly. It was slow and dreamy. Sun filtering through my blinds. His hair was messy, and he was wearing his dress shirt from the night before. Hands tucked close to him.

He looked like a little kitten and hell. I couldn’t wake him up. He would wake himself up sooner or later. So I rested my eyes, closing them again, and dozed off a little longer with Ryan in my bed.

And shit. It’s the best sleep I've had in weeks.

It was two hours later when I woke up again, and this time, Ryan was slightly poking my cheek.

“Shane?”

I groaned, squinting at his soft expression in the morning light.  
“Shane?”

“I’m awake.” I groaned. Talking hurt.

“Really?” He looked skeptical, and I raised my head a slight amount, up at him, and blinked awake more.

“Yeah… morning, beautiful.”

Ryan playfully slapped my shoulder, smiling, and I wheezed a laugh, dropping my head back down to the pillowcase.

“Shut up.” Ryan groaned. “We should get up.”

“Do we have too?” I asked, eyes closed, reaching out for Ryan’s hip. “It’s new years… just… relax for a while?”

Ryan groaned, and I thought he was about to object for a moment, before he settled in, and just collapsed into his previous position.

I smiled to myself for a moment. And everything was quiet.

Tranquil, without exclamation.

Ryan nestled in, and there isn’t much more to say. it was so simple you could just grasp it.

And there was a moment in which I could’ve sworn I was dead.

Nothing moved. Nothing breathed.

There was a complete stillness that claimed the room.

And if that was where this story ended?

What a nice finish that would be.

But Ryan… he’s a fighter. And a worrier.

“Shane?”

I didn’t respond. I was hoping he would drop it. Like I already knew what was coming.

“Shane?”

“...”

“Yes?”

Ryan shifted, turning over to face me.

“I think we should talk… uh. About… about last night.”

And I knew this wasn’t good.

“Why- what about it?”

Ryan just sighed, and he was further away from me then I would’ve liked.

“I just…” He frowned.

“Shane I don’t know about this.”

“Don’t know what?”

“I don’t know about… us.”

I sat up a little bit. But it was a heavy movement.

“What… what about us?”

“Shane I- I don’t… I don’t know. I- I like you. I do I just. I don’t… shit. Fuck- goddamnit. I- what… I mean… I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”

“For… for what?”

“For this! For us! Shane- I don’t… I can’t I need-”

Ryan suddenly cuts off, sitting up, and covers his mouth with his hand.

“I just. I need a day.”

“You what?”

But Ryan was already out of bed. I tried to race after him, but my foot was asleep and caught on the bed. I fell, and Ryan slammed the door behind him.

I lay on my floor. In shock.

And I didn’t stand up for another two hours.

SPOTD:  
Ryan. You already know what this is you’ve seen this trick before… I’ve used it before in my poems before at least. But even without the hidden hint… you know what to use:

 

Because I’ve used it.  
And you’ve already cracked it  
So just read it  
End this now

  
So go on  
In-coded, encrypted. I found a word.  
Xerotic. A word.  
The code  
You know it.

  
For the dryness of medications.  
Only, this is drier.  
Until my mouth runs dry.  
Running side to side. The up and down:

 

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

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION:
> 
> WHAT DOES THE POEM MEAN
> 
> ANSWER: I've given you all the hints you need. Google the words that you find... You've done the first step before. Take it one further. Google and the others in the comments are your friends. I'll give a shoutout to the first person to figure out the poem. 
> 
> HOWEVER PLEASE DO NOT POST THE POEM IN THE COMMENTS
> 
> You may post A GUIDE ON HOW TO GET THE POEM. Not the poem verbatim.


	25. Y is for Yonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ew this was really bad and hard to write. I still love love LOVE you guys!

I never knew before that I could sleep for a full 19 hours. I’m pretty sure it was a bad sign.

A long time.

I guess it was something I should give Ryan out of respect. I should respect his decision to wait. To sit still. To contemplate. To look before he leaps. 

But why, god why, did he get us 99% of the way there. Get me so ready for something that he wasn’t?

I figured that maybe this is fair. For all the bad calls I’ve made. All the mistakes, all the times I snapped at him, made fun of him, pushed something a little too far.

Maybe this was what I deserved. Ball and chained to my leg. I deserve to pull this weight and be on the receiving end of slight emotional torment. 

I’m not going to lie though… It was a god-awful day. 

There was no way I was going to work. I’m fairly sure I was supposed to be there, but I didn’t call in. I didn’t say anything.

I only looked at my phone to see the time. It was way too late in the evening, yet I wasn’t hungry. I also saw a couple dozen missed calls, but I’m still choosing to ignore those.

Still, wallowing around in misery isn’t going to help me currently. I hauled myself out of bed, shivering as I remembered Ryan’s figure doing the same just yesterday. 

That was still yesterday, right?

Time had ceased to exist almost. The only reason I’m writing any of this down is that I’m desperate. I need some normalcy. I need something to hold onto that won’t slip out of my hands. I need to know if I’m even real anymore.

I did take a shower. That is some kind of progress I suppose. 

I did do that. I felt the water on my back and cried for a while. Not the desperate cries that shatter your heart and rattle your bone. Just tears that exist to remind you that you should be miserable. Even if you’ve long distance yourself from those feelings.

I didn’t bother trying to eat. Just stood under the water for a long while, and emerged again. Razors and soap untouched and slunk back into bed without putting on clothes.

It felt strange. The dissociation and desperation that I felt. Like the entire universe was pulling apart, and every atom has twice the distance apart than normal. Making everything twice as large, and far from everything else.

I tossed in my bed another long while. Staring at the wall, not even thinking about anything. Finding that I wasn’t sure I even cared.

Finally, my phone buzzed, and it was from Ryan.

I recognized the buzzing pattern from before, the one I set for Ryan. I didn’t look at what he said.

It was only when it was three in the morning, me having slipped in and out of my meditation-like state did it occur to me that I should probably write something. 

And I should probably see what Ryan had to say. Maybe he could say something to make me care again.

Finally, I seized my phone, flicked it on just to catch a glimpse of his message.

[You were out today- nobody can call you. I want to start over? Can we meet for Coffee tomorrow? Just like old times, okay? As friends and we’ll see where from there. Hope you’re safe. Starbucks at three?]

I regretfully responded, [ ok ] and picked up my pencil.

SPOTD:

Good morning sun  
Goodnight moon  
Two drastic parallels  
Like me and you

I’m too tired for rhymes  
Yesterday didn't exist  
No amount of water  
No matter my effort  
Can wash away the shame  
It clings to you  
Just like it’s counterpart of love.  
It never  
Never  
Never  
Lets go.


	26. Z is for Zero

January 3rd, 2018, 

I just got back from Coffee and I have no idea what is happening. 

I got dressed this morning, probably far too formally. One of my best button-up shirts only to see the clock and realize that it was only 10 am. I still had five hours to wait still. Smooth going, Shane. I can see how you kept your last relationship so long. Ryan told me that he was gong to come to pick me up? For some reason? So I was overdressed, counting the seconds until I could get this over with.

I collapsed on the couch, finally at least eating a piece of toast and downing a far too cold glass of water. There is something so sad about drinking toast and water together. The flavor of the butter disappears so it’s just eating crunch bread straight out with water, which kinda ruins it. 

Either way, it was something to keep me alive, and not enough to regurgitate if my nerves kicked in.

So… a humble balance. 

I didn’t bother turning on the Tv, or my phone. Instead, I leaned over and picked up my copy of Don’t Call Us Dead which I’d abandoned a few days prior after I finished it, and proceeded to flip through the humble poems of a man that can’t receive a boyfriend that will date a black man like himself. Powerful stuff.

Still, time seemed hell-bent on making me wait. In pain and suffering. Like the world just wanted to torture me. 

It was around two pm when the nerves really started to hit me head on. 

What if Ryan wanted to boot me from the show? Never wanted to see me again? 

Why was he insisting that we met up in person instead of just texting? That’s the nicer way of breaking the bad news to a guy. No need to see his face when it happens, right?

Panicked, I called my brother. The only guy I felt might be able to help me anymore.

Only, when he picked up, I was at a loss for words. Nothing seemed to come up. 

“Shane?”

I just stopped. 

“Shane? What’s up?”

“Uh!” He couldn’t find the right words or any words at all for a moment. 

“How… are things?” He asked simply, wanting to take the spotlight off himself for a moment. 

“Well- uh, hello to you too, Shane.” He said shakily. “Things are okay… I just… what’s up?”

I swallowed. “Oh! Nothing… I just wanted to know about. Uh… The Alvie situation. The financial aid program for a free room in your senor home?”

“Oh! Yes, I did take a look at that.” Finn said, voice actually upbeat. “Well… unfortunately, we lost a patron. They passed easily. BUt she paid out a few months in advance… and in that time, I’m sure I could get something sorted out to host her. She really does sound like she’s important to you, and I had a patron, Rose, say that she was getting rather lonely so maybe Alvie can stay with us for her sake, under her name.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! We’re… going to have to give the passed a send-off before the room is available again. But I was going to call and offer her a free space in maybe a week? Does that sound good?”

“That sounds perfect!”

And thank god. Alvie deserved that so much. I'd have to visit her.

I looked at the clock and was worried that maybe now wouldn’t be the best time. 

“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” 

“Sounds like a plan… Does she have a cell phone by chance?”

“No, she does not… I can drive her over though, to help her fill out all the paperwork if that’s what you need.”

 

“That would be great, Shane. You really do enjoy helping people.”

“Something like that…”

 

“Why’d you call? Other then that, I mean. You sound nervous, and you haven't texted in a few days. Is something the matter?”

 

I just huffed. 

“Yeah, something really is bugging me, but I’m telling you now that just hearing you makes it better.”

“If… you say so?”

“I do say so… I love you Finn.”

Finn just chuckled. “Love you too, bro. Say… how have things been going with Ryan?”

“I uh… Well, maybe we can talk about that later?”

“That’s fair! Sorry for prying. I’m always here… remember?”

I laughed. “Of course.”

“Oh! And I’m totally rooting for you. By the by.”

“I know, Finn.”

“Well… I have to go run some laundry. I hope everything works out. Talk soon.”

“Yeah! Thanks for talking… see you!”

And I hung up the phone.

Suddenly I wished it wasn't as close to 3 pm. I now wanted to postpone this.

It was self-contradictory any way that you sliced it, but it was a true feeling that rung true.

Still, it wasn’t changing the fact that he had twenty minutes until Ryan came to get him. 

Ten of which were simply spent pacing in circles, flipping all of the past few days in my mind. Like pulling them apart like pulled pork and flipping them all inside out would help me understand it any better.

Regardless, there was a hammering on his door that he knew could only belong to the one and only Ryan Bergara. Ten minutes too early.

Ryan was either perfectly on time, or late. This was a first. Maybe this really was bad news.

I felt my palms grow sweaty and start shaking out of nervousness. Maybe eating more than a piece of toast was a good idea. Maybe not.

Still, I opened the door, probably far too quickly. And saw Ryan in a simple t-shirt and jeans looking back at me. 

Well, he was more staring at the floor, and more importantly, I was way fucking overdressed. 

Still, I held strong and tried to resume my usually composed stance. And tried to look at him. 

“Hey…” I said, and Ryan glanced up at me. “Hey, Shane.”

This was going to be a fucking delight, wasn’t it?

“Come on in,” Ryan said, gesturing to his car like I’d never seen it before. “How are things?”

I bit my lip. ‘Great asshole, not grappling with a broken heart, thanks to you!’ but I kept it under control.

“It’s been alright… Finn just called and told me that we might be able to get Alvie into a senior home.”

Ryan took to that idea rather well, with a smile. “Really? That’s great news! Tell her hello when you see her next!”

“I’m visiting her tomorrow… did I tell you that she was the one who organized all the flowers for the dance? Just picking her own planted flowers from around the city?”

 

“You did,” Ryan said, already coasting down the slight hill towards the nearest Starbucks. “She sounds like some kind of immortal woodland guardian. Just spreading love and flowers.”

“Right? What a woman… She almost cried with joy when I brought her a homecooked breakfast.”

“Somebody cried over your cooking? Are you sure it wasn’t in pain?”

“I can cook just fine!” I protested, even thought it wasn’t remotely true. “It was a fruit salad and oatmeal. Kinda hard to mess up drastically.”

“If you say so, idiot,” Ryan said. “Is the hangover gone?”

“Yeah… I mean…. I slept for almost a whole day. I hope it’s gone by now.”

“Is that healthy? Even in the slightest?”

“That’s what I wondered, and then I remembered that I didn’t care.”

“You really never change, huh…” Ryan said. “Good to hear you’re not dying.”

“I suppose,” I said. “How about yourself?”

Ryan just chuckled as he shifted gears. “It’s alright. People keep trying to talk to me about shit, so that’s uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” I said. Why couldn’t people just leave themselves out of the problems that only really concerned them? “I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

Ryan’s eyes looked at the road a little too intently. “Look man… It’s not your fault. You aren't pestering me incessantly. It’s whatever. Good of you to be avoiding it, honestly. It’s been a nightmare.”

“Ryan, I literally just haven't been showing up to work.”

“Well… I know, but honestly? You’re just dodging really dumb, shitty personal questions.”

“Oh god…”

Ryan glanced at him and smiled to himself. “It’s not that bad… At least… they mean well, I think. Eugene straight up asked me today if you were good in bed and I punched him… motherfucker. But- uh… I think they just want you to be happy.”

 

“And you, by extension?”

“Yeah, probably. Doesn’t make it any less weird, but I can forgive them. So long as they call it quits relatively soon.”

“That sounds fair,” Shane said. Still, if Ryan was taking him to coffee to lightly dumb him, why the hell tell him about co-workers prying into their non-existent ‘sex life’? Sometimes Ryan really didn’t make any sense.

“Anyways… I know that a lot of people missed you in the office past two days. Jen especially was asking about you. She called you a metric ton of times and was really scared when you didn’t answer. I had to talk her out of breaking and entering your house to see if you were dead.”

“What did you tell her?”

Ryan shrugged, face a little red. “I told her that you were fine. And that you’d probably reach out if you were really in danger. And that you were probably just overthinking things and taking things a little too hard… Which, you look like you have.”

“I mean…” I chocked on my words. “I guess.”

“For somebody so rooted in facts and figures… you really do take emotions a little too seriously, don’t you?”

I sighed, face warm. Ryan was certainly right. “Well…. FIne. What of it? Is that a problem?”

Ryan chuckled. “It’s more about you than me, dude. I don’t live in that head of yours!” And I smiled, as I felt the car park in front of the Starbucks. Both left without another word.

The got in and ordered. Ryan told the barista to put the orders together and paid for them both. Shane thanked him, but Ryan just nodded, before sitting themselves by the windows.

They sat down after their drins had been ordered and Shane suddenly feared that he’d forgotten how to speak. Had he ever known? WHen Ryan looked him dead in the eyes. And drew in a breath.

“Shane… I have a preposition for you.”

Ryan was silhouetted from the sunlight outside, and Shane just sat there, vulnerable to anything that Ryan said or did. 

“I… want to date you- but I have some limits.”

Shane stopped and just stared at Ryan- voice certainly dead now, and Ryan just sighed. 

“No kissing, no pet names, and no… pda.”

Shane's head tilted a slight bit. “Why?”

Ryan's hands covered his mouth as he spoke, the other resting on an iced coffee. Who the hell orders and iced coffee in January?

“I just… I don’t think I'm ready to really put so much weight in certain things yet. And I don’t want people asking questions about us… and just no pet names. Fucking ever.”

 

Shane just gripped himself under the table.

“So… you don't want to kiss me?” Suddenly Shane was fearing that he had highly violated Ryan, taken advantage of him a few nights prior, and his insides felt disgusting and chunky. Repulsed at the idea.

“I do! I do Shane… These are temporary rules- not for forever. Obviously if we… uh… go out on a few dates I’ll want to. BUt it’s just a little too much right now. I need just a little time to get my feet under me, does that make sense?”

Shane just stared at him stupidly.  
“So… you do? Want to date me, I mean?”

Ryan’s face was the most red he’d ever seen it. 

“Well… yeah?”

Shane smiled. “I do too- ANd I promise. I won’t kiss you again, and I won't call you dumb shit, and outside of our homes there’s nothing to be seen.”

Ryan's smile spread across his whole face. 

“Sounds perfect.”

Ryan’s hand reached out over the table, and Shane grasped it. 

“Well… Yeah. As close to perfect as you can get.”

 

 

 

 

 

SPOTD:

 

The closest thing to perfection

Is this

Wherever you are

Whatever you do

That is as good as it gets in that moment

But push anyway

Ever closer.


End file.
